Hiccup Haddock and the Chamber of Secrets
by Optimus524
Summary: Hiccup Haddock is a Viking. He is in his second year at Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries. Little does he know that this year will be just as eventful as the last...
1. The Worst Birthday

**You can expert updates to get slower after the 23rd of September, because I'll be starting university then.**

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><p>Not for the thirst time, an argument had brpken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr Magnus Dalsson had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud roar fron his nephew Hiccup's room.<p>

"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that lizard, it'll have to go!"

Hiccup tried, yet again, to explain.

"He's _bored_," he said. "He's used to flying around outside. If I could just let him out of night…"

"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Magnus. It took of Hiccup's will power to not say, 'Yes you do'. "You'll send messages to those freaky friends of yours and what will the neighbours say when they see it flying around."

"As I keep reminding you '_normal_' will only see him as a bird or something," Hiccup said tiredly.

Uncle Magnus ignored him and exchanged dark looks with his wife, Runa.

Hiccup tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dalssons' son, Olaf.

"How want to be friend with you?"

Hiccup was about to respond, but Olaf looked at his mother and said, "I want more bacon."

"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Runa, turning misty eyes on her massive son, "We must feed you up while we've got the chance… I don't like the sound of that school food…"

"Nonsense, Runa, I never went hungry when _I_ was at Smeltings," said Uncle Magnus heartily. "Olaf gets enough, don't you, son?"

Olaf, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Hiccup.

"Pass the frying pan."

"You've forgotten the magic word," said Hiccup irritably.

The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Olaf gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs Dalsson gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr Dalsson jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.

"I meant 'please'!" said Hiccup quickly. "I didn't mean—"

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE M WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"

"It was only a—"

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN OLAF!" roared Unlce Magnus, pounding the table with his fist.

"Overreact much?"

"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"

"All right," said Hiccup, "_all right_…"

Uncle Manus sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Hiccup closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.

Ever since Hiccup had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Magnus had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Hiccup _wasn't_ a normal boy, as a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be.

Hiccup Haddock was a Viking, and when he meant Viking he means a warrior that's able to use magic, and he has fresh from his first year at Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries. And if the Dalssons were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Hiccup felt.

He missed Berk so much it was like having a constant stomach ache. He missed the mountain fortress, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his lessons (though perhaps not Grabbit, the Potions Master), the post arriving by little dragons called Terrible Terrors, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his wooden bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the forge master, Gobber, in his workshop and, especially flying around on Toothless his Night Fury, together they played Dragon Racing, the most popular sport in the Viking world (two baskets, four flying balls and fourteen players riding their dragons).

All Hiccup's spellbooks, his sword, his crystal eye, cauldron and top-of-the-range Nimbus Two Thousand saddle had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Magnus the instant Hiccup had come home. What did the Dalssons care if Hiccup went back to the academy without any homework done? The Dalssons were what Vikings called Muggles (Not a drop of magical blood in their veins) and as far as they concerned, having a drop of magic blood in ones veins was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Magnus had even padlocked Hiccup's Terrible Terror, Sharpshot, inside his cage, to stop him carrying messages to anyone in the Viking world.

Hiccup looked nothing like the rest of the family. Uncle Magnus was large and neckless, with an enormous grey moustache; Aunt Runa was horse-faced and boney; Olaf was blonde, pink and porky. Hiccup was glad he looked nothing like despite being small, scrawny looking and having feckless all over his face. He had emerald green eyes and scraggy auburn hair. Unlike the rest of the family he was wearing a long-sleeve, light-green tunic, and a dark brown fur vest that matched his boots and trousers and on his forehead was thin, lightning-shaped scar.

It was this scar that made Hiccup so particularly unusual, even for a Viking. This scar was the only hint of Hiccup's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dalssons' doorstep eleven years before.

At the age of one, Hiccup had somehow survived a powerful attack from a greatest Viking warlord of all time, Drago Bludvist, whose name most Valkyries and Vikings still feared to speak. Hiccup's parents had died in Drago's attack, but Hiccup had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow—nobody understood why—Drago's powers had been destroyed the instant he failed to kill Hiccup.

So Hiccup had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dalssons, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dalssons' story that he had got his scar in the car crash which had killed his parents.

And then, exactly a year ago, Berk had written to Hiccup, and the whole story had come out. Hiccup had taken up his place at dragon academy, where he and his scar were famous… but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dalssons for the summer, back to be treated like a slave.

The Dalssons hadn't even remembered that today happened to Hiccup's twelfth birthday. Of course his hopes hadn't been high; they never given him a proper present, let alone a cake—but to ignore it completely…

At that moment, Uncle Magnus cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."

Hiccup looked up, hardly daring to believe it.

"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Magnus.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, cursed himself of getting his hopes up and went back to his toast. Uncle Magnus was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking of nothing else for a fortnight. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Magnus was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Magnus's company made drills).

"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Magnus.

It was at this point that Hiccup decided to leave.

"Where are you going boy?" Uncle Magnus asked, as the veins on his neck grew.

"Not much point for me to take part in this when all I have to do is stay in my bedroom, make no noise and pretend I don't exist," said Hiccup dully.

"Too right you will," said Uncle Magnus forcefully. "The Malsons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way."

Hiccup nodded and walked outside. It was brilliant, sunny day. He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench and sang under his breath, "Happy birthday to me… happy birthday to me…"

No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely and that was saying something. More than anything else at Berk, more even than playing Dragon Racing, Hiccup missed his best friends, Astrid Hofferson, who he had a crush on, and Ragnar Keastson, who he consider like a brother. There was one more friend at Berk that he missed his dragon, Toothless, Hiccup always thought they both had more in common apart from their age. Anyway his two human friends didn't seem to be missing him at all. Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Astrid had said she was going to ask Hiccup to come and stay.

Hiccup had tried to unlock Sharpshot's cage and sending him to Astrid and Ragnar with a letter, but without using magic he couldn't and it wasn't worth the risk. Vikings under the age of seventeen weren't allowed to use magic outside of the academy. Hiccup never told the Dalssons this; he knew it was only their terror that he might set them on fire that stopped them locking _him_ in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and saddle. For the first couple of weeks back, Hiccup had enjoyed watching Olaf tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs could carry him whenever he snapped his fingers. But the long silence from Astrid and Ragnar had made Hiccup feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Olaf had lost its appeal—and now Astrid and Ragnar had forgotten his birthday.

What wouldn't he give now for a message from Berk? From any Viking or Valkyrie that could be out there? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his arch-enemy Snotlout Jorgenson; just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream…

Not that his whole year at Berk had been fun. At the very end of last term, Hiccup came face-to-face with none other than Drago Bludvist himself. Drago might be ruin of his former self, but he was terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Hiccup had slipped through Drago's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Hiccup kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat. Wondering where Drago was now, remembering those terrible scars on his face…

Hiccup suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge _and the hedge was staring back_. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.

Hiccup shook his head wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him and heard a jeering voice floating across the lawn.

"I know what day it is," sang Olaf, waddling towards him.

The huge eyes blinked and vanished.

"What?" said Hiccup, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.

"I know what day it is," Olaf repeated, coming right up to him.

"Whoa, I didn't know you learnt the days of the week," said Hiccup.

"Today's your _birthday_," sneered Olaf. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friend at that freak place?"

"You know I know some at that '_freak place_' that you'll probably like," said Hiccup.

"Really? Is it that girl I saw at the station when we picked you?" Olaf asked.

"No, it's a guy, but he won't like you. He thinks people like you are animals," said Hiccup plainly.

At that moment, Olaf grabbed the helm of his shirt.

"What was that?" he demanded and looked as though he was going to punch him. "And why're you staring at the hedge?"

"I'm trying to decide if I show set it on fire or not," said Hiccup.

At these words, Olaf released Hiccup and quickly backed away from him showing a look of panic on his fat face.

"You c-can't—Dad told you you're not to do m-magic—he said he'll chuck you out of the house—and you haven't got anywhere else to go—you haven't got any _friends_ to take you—"

"Let me think do I light it by clapping my hands or was it snapping my fingers," said Hiccup, showing he was in deep thought.

"MUUUUUUM!" howled Olaf, tripping over his feet as he dashed back towards the house, "MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!"

Hiccup paid the price for his moment of fun. As neither Olaf nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Runa knew he hadn't really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Luckily Uncle Magnus had left for town to get him and Olaf dinner jackets, so she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished.

While Olaf lolled around watching and easting ice-creams, Hiccup cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn and trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the rose and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead; luckily he had left to deal with extreme heat thanks to his lessons at Berk. He knew he shouldn't have taken Olaf's bait, but he had a point. Hiccup was thinking the same thing… maybe he _didn't_ have any friends at Berk at all…

"Wish they could see famous Hiccup Haddock now," he thought savagely, as he spread manure on the flowerbeds, his back aching, sweat running down his face.

It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Runa calling him.

"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"

Hiccup moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding was a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A joint of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.

"Ear quickly!" The Malsons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Runa, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress.

Hiccup washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Runa whisked away his plate. "Upstairs! Hurry!"

As he passed the door to the living room, Hiccup caught a glimpse of Uncle Magnus and Olaf in bow ties and dinner jackets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Uncle Magnus furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Remember, boy—one sound…"

"How can I forget?" Hiccup muttered.

He the crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside, closed the door and turned to collapse on his bed hoping trouble won't come.

But the moment he entered the room he found trouble was already here, because someone was already sitting on his bed.


	2. Dobby's Warning

Hiccup almost shouted "WHAT ARE YOU!" but held his held his breath. The last thing Hiccup wanted was his Uncle Magnus do discover that something in his words, "Not normal" was in his room. The little creature in question had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Hiccup knew instantly that this was what had been watching him out of the garden hedge that morning.

As they stared at each other, Hiccup heard Olaf's voice from the hall.

"May I take you coats, Mr and Mrs Malson?"

The creature slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long thin nose touched the carpet. Hiccup noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for the arms and leg-holes.

"Uh, hello," said Hiccup nervously.

"Hiccup Haddock," said the creature, in high-pitched voice Hiccup was sure would carry down the stairs, "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir… such an honour it it…"

"Th-thank you," said Hiccup, edging along the wall and sinking into his desk chair, next to Sharpshot, who was asleep in his large cage. "Who are you?"

"Dobby, sir just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," said the creature.

"I've met elves before at Berk in Raven's Point," said Hiccup.

"Oh, Dobby isn't like the wood-elves, sir, they are much more grander than Dobby," said Dobby.

Hiccup was about to ask, "What do you mean by that?" when he remembered that a dinner party was going on down stairs, so instead said, "Uh, not to be rude or anything, but this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom. So… if you wouldn't mind could you come back tomorrow?"

"Oh, yes, sir," said Dobby nervously, as though Hiccup was going to attack him. "Dobby understands… it's just that… Dobby has come to tell you… it is difficult, sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…"

"Why don't you sit down," said Hiccup politely, pointing at the bed.

"S-sit down! S-sit down!" said Dobby and began to cry his eyes out.

Hiccup looked at the door and thought that the voices downstairs falter.

"Dobby, shh," he whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a Viking… like an equal—"

"Huh, then you can't have met many decent Vikings then," said Hiccup, trying to cheer him up.

"No, he hasn't," Dobby agreed. Then his fell when he realised what he said. "That was a terrible thing to say."

He then began to bang his head on Hiccup's desk, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

"Dobby! Stop! Shh!" Hiccup hissed, pulling him away from the desk, but it was like holding a wildcat.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyes, "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…"

"Your family?"

"The Viking family Dobby serves, sir… Dobby is a house-self bound to serve one house and one family forever…"

"So that's what you meant when wood-elves were grander than you."

"Yes, sir, to wood-elves and dark-elves we are a stain on the word elf for serving humans."

"Do your family know you're here?" asked Hiccup curiously.

Dobby shuddered.

"Oh no, sir no… Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir—"

"Uh, don't you think they'll find it odd that you have to shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir? They let Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminded him to do extra punishments…"

"If you hate them so much way don't you leave? Escape?"

"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free… Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir…"

Hiccup stared.

"And here I thought I was having it rough by staying here for another four weeks," he said. "You family make the Dalssons sound almost human. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Almost at once, Hiccup wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude.

"Please," Hiccup whispered frantically, "please be quite, if the Dalssons hear anything, if they know you're here…"

"Hiccup Haddock asks if he can help Dobby… Dobby heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew…"

Hiccup was getting pretty tired of people telling him how great he was. He took a deep breath and said, "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of nonsense. I'm not even top of my year at Berk, that's Ragnar, she's—"

"Hiccup Haddock is humble and modest," said Dobby reverently, his orb-like eyes aglow. "Hiccup Haddock speaks not of his triumph over the Dragon Lord."

"Drago Bludvist?" said Hiccup.

Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"

"Sorry," said Hiccup quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it."

Dobby leaned towards Hiccup, his eyes wide as headlamps.

"Dobby heard tell," he said hoarsely, "that Hiccup Haddock met the Dragon Lord for a second time, just weeks ago… that Hiccup Haddock escaped yet again."

Hiccup nodded and Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears.

"Ah, sir," he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing, "Hiccup Haddock is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Hiccup Haddock, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later… Hiccup Haddock must not go back to Berk"

There was a silence broken only by chink of knives and forks from downstairs and distant rumble of Uncle Magnus's voice.

"W-what?" Hiccup stammered. "But I've got to go back… term stars on September the first. It's all that's keeping me going. You don't know what it's like here. I don't belong here. I belong in your world… at Berk."

"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Hiccup Haddock must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Hiccup Haddock goes back to Berk, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" Hiccup asked in surprise.

"There is a plot, Hiccup Haddock. A plot to make most terrible things happen at the Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Hiccup Haddock must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

What is this terrible thing?" Hiccup asked at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head madly against the wall.

"All right!" cried Hiccup, grabbing the elf once again to stop him. "You can't say, I understand. Nut why are you warning me?" a sudden unpleasant thought struck him. "Wait a minute, this hasn't got anything to do with Dra—sorry, with the Dragon Lord, has it?" you could just shake or nod," he added hastily, as Dobby's head tilted worrying close to the wall again.

Slowly, Dobby shook his head.

"Not—not the Dragon Lord, sir."

But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Hiccup a hint. Hiccup, however, was completely at sea.

"Please tell me he hasn't got a brother or anything."

Dobby shook his head, his eyes wider than ever.

"Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Berk," said Hiccup. "Listen you don't have to worry about me, Heyral the Wise is there for one thing. You know who Heyral the Wise, don't you?"

Dobby bowed his head.

"Heyral the Wise is the greatest Headmaster Berk has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Heyral powers rival those of the Dragon Lord at the height of his strength. But sir," Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper, "There are powers Heyral doesn't… powers no decent Viking…"

And before Hiccup could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Hiccup's desk lamp and started beating himself around the head with ear-splitting yelps.

A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Hiccup, heart thudding madly, heard Uncle Magnus coming into the hall, calling, "Olaf must have left his television on again, the little tyke!"

"Quick! In the wardrobe!" hissed Hiccup, stuffing Dobby in, shutting the door and flinging himself onto the bed just as the door handle turned.

"What… in… the… name… of… Thor… are… you… doing?" said Uncle Magnus through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to Hiccup's. "You've just ruined the punchline of my Japanese golfer joke… one more sound and you'll wish you'd never been, born!"

He stomped flat-footed from the room.

Shaking, Hiccup let Dobby out of the wardrobe.

"See what it's like here?" he said. "See why I've got to go back to Berk? It's the only place I've got friends."

"Friends that don't even _write_ to Hiccup Haddock," said Dobby slyly.

"Well, I expect that they've just been—hang on," said Hiccup, frowning, "How do _you_ know my friends haven't been writing to me?"

Dobby shuffled his feet.

"Hiccup Haddock mustn't be angry with Dobby," said Dobby, as he backed away from Hiccup's reach, "Dobby did it for the best…"

"_Have you been stopping my letters_?"

"Dobby gas them here, sir," said the elf. He pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. Hiccup could make out Ragnar's neat writing, Astrid's untidy scrawl and even a scribbled that looked as though it was from the Berk forge master, Gobber the Belch.

Dobby blinked anxiously up at Hiccup.

"Hiccup mustn't be angry… Dobby hoped… if Hiccup Haddock thought his friends had forgotten him… Hiccup Haddock might not want to go back to school, sir…"

Hiccup was finding it every hard not to yell and said, "Give me those, now."

"No!" Dobby squealed.

Before Hiccup could stop him, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open and sprinted down the stairs.

Hiccup sprinted after him, trying not to make a sound and hoping that the Dalssons wouldn't spot Dobby. He jumped the last six stairs, landing catlike on the hall carpet, looking around for Dobby. From the dining room he heard Uncle Magnus saying, "…tell Runa that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr Mason, she's been dying to hear…"

Hiccup ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt his stomach disappeared.

Aunt Runa's masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, was floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby.

"No!" croaked Hiccup. "Please… they'll kill me…"

"Hiccup Haddock must say he's not going back to school—"

"Dobby… please…

"Say it, sir…"

"I can't!"

Dobby gave him a tragic look.

"Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Hiccup Haddock's own good."

The pudding fell to the floor with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered. Dobby then faded away quietly, as if the wind took him.

There were screams from the dining room and Uncle Magnus burst into the kitchen to find Hiccup, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Aunt Runa's pudding.

At first, it looked as though Uncle Magnus would manage to gloss the whole thing over ('Just our nephew, he's very disturbed… meeting strangers upsets him, so we kept him upstairs…'" He shooed the shocked Malsons back to the dining room, promised Hiccup he would flay him to within an inch of his left when the Malsons had left, and handed him a mop. Aunt Runa dug some ice-cream out of the freezer and Hiccup, still shaking, started scrubbing the kitchen clean.

Uncle Magnus might still have been able to make his deal… if it hadn't been for the Terrible Terror.

Aunt Runa was just handing round a box of after-dinner mints when a grey scaled Terrible Terror flew through the dining room window. The good news was that to Muggles that didn't believe in magic dragons look like birds or something, but the bad news was that Mrs Malson was afraid of birds. The moment it landed on her head and flew out again. Mrs Malson screamed like Thunderdrum and ran from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr Malson only stayed long enough to say to the Dalssons that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke.

Hiccup knew what was coming next. He was clutching the mop for support as Uncle Magnus advanced on him, a demonic glint in his tiny eyes.

"Read it!" he hissed evilly, brandishing the letter the Terrible Terror had delivered. "Go on… read it!"

Hiccup took it and hoped that it was a card wishing him happy birthday. It wasn't.

_Dear Mr Haddock,_

_We have received intelligence that a piece of Wind Magic was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine._

_As you know, under-age Vikings are not permitted to perform magic outside of school, and further magicwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Under-Age Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)._

_We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity which risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence, under section 13 of the International Confederation of Chiefs' Statute of Secrecy_

_Enjoy your holidays!_

_Yours sincerely_

_Hopkirk the Messenger_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

Hiccup looked up from the letter and gulped.

"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," said Uncle Magnus, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes.

"I-it… slipped my mind," Hiccup lied.

Uncle Magnus bearded down on him like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared and said, "Well, I've got news for you, boy… I'm locking you up… you're never going back to that school… never… and if you try to use magic to magic yourself out, they'll expel you!"

And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Hiccup back upstairs. This had to be his worse birthday ever and that was saying something.

Hiccup had to say this for his Uncle Magnus, he differently kept his word. The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on Hiccup's window. He himself fitted the cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food, that could barely feed a caterpillar, could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Hiccup out to use the bathroom morning and evening otherwise, he was locked in his room around the clock.

Uncle Magnus would pass his door ever so often and say, "You're never going back to that school. You've never going to see those freaky friends of yours again… never!"

Annoyingly Hiccup thought he was right.

* * *

><p>Three days later, the Dalssons were showing no signs of relenting and Hiccup couldn't see any way out of his situation, apart from burning the door down. He couldn't use Sharpshot to do that because Uncle Magnus had put a muzzle on him prevent him from shooting out flames. He spent his time lay on his bed watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window and wondered miserably what was going to happen to him.<p>

What was the good of magicking himself out of his room if Berk would expel him for doing it? Yet life at Privet Drive had reached an all-time low. Now the Dalssons knew they weren't going to be set on fire, he had lost his only weapon. Dobby might have saved Hiccup from horrible happenings at Berk, but the way things were going, he'd probably starve to death anyway. He had a silent promise to himself that if he got out of here and see Dobby he'd freed him to Toothless. Alas it would seem as if he never get a chance with him being stuck here and all.

The cat-flap rattled and Aunt Runa's hand appeared, pushing a bowl of tinned soup into the room. Hiccup, whose insides were aching with hunger, jumped off his bed and seized it. He wasn't surprised to find that soup was stone cold, but drank half of it in one gulp. Then he crossed the room to Sharpshot's change and tipped the soggy chicken at the bottom of the bowl into his empty food tray. He sniffed the food and looked at him in deep disgust.

"So, boy, but that's all we've have," said Hiccup grimly.

He put the empty bowl back on the floor next to the cat-flap and lay back down on the bed, somehow even hungrier than he had been before the soup.

Supposing he was still alive in another four weeks, what would happen if he didn't turn up at Berk? Would someone be sent to see why he hadn't come back? Would they be able to make the Dalssons let him go?

The room was growling dark. Exhausted, stomach rumbling, mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions, Hiccup fell into an uneasy sleep.

He dreamed that he was on show in a zoo, with a card reading 'Under-age Viking' attached to his cage. People goggled through the bars at him as he lay, starving and weak, on a bed of straw. He saw Dobby's face in the crowd and shouted out, asking for help, but Dobby called, "Hiccup Haddock is safe there, sir!" and vanished. Then the Dalssons appeared and Olaf rattled the bars of the cage, laughing at him.

"Stop it," Hiccup muttered, as the rattling pounded in his sire head. Leave me alone… cut it out… I'm trying to sleep…"

He opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone _was_ goggling through the bars at him: a steel blue-eyed, blond-haired, button-nosed someone.

Astrid Hofferson was outside Hiccup's window.


	3. The Burrow

"_Astrid!_" breathed Hiccup, creeping to the window and pushing it up so they could talk through the bars. "Astrid, how in the name of Thor did you… what the—?"

Hiccup's mouth fell open as the full impact of what he was seeing hit him. Astrid was leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise car, which was parked _in mid-air_. Grinning at Hiccup from the front seats were Double and Trouble, Astrid's elder twin brothers.

"All right, Hiccup?" they asked.

Hiccup stared at them and then at the car. "I think I must be hallucinating from lack of food, because what I'm seeing are you three flying around in a flying car," said Hiccup rubbing his eyes.

"You're not hallucinating, Hiccup," said Astrid. Then she noticed the bars around his window. "Boy Hiccup, when you said you felt like a caged animal I didn't think you meant it literally."

"Very funny," said Hiccup crossing his arms.

"By the way, do you mind ask why you haven't answered any of my letters?" Astrid asked, in her usual violent way. "I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles…"

"It wasn't me," said Hiccup. "Wait, how does your dad know?"

"He works for the Ministry," said Astrid. "You _know_ we're not supposed to do magic outside school—"

"Look who's talking," said Hiccup, staring at the floating car.

"Oh, this doesn't count," said Astrid. "We're only borrowing this, it's Dads, _we_ didn't enchant it. But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with…"

"I told you, I didn't… but it'll take too long to explain now. Look, can you explain now. Look, can you explain to them at Berk that the Dalssons have locked me up and won't let me come back, and obviously I can't magic myself out, because the Ministry will think that's the second bit of magic I've done in three days, so—"

"Hiccup, do you really think that we'd come all this way to say hello?" Astrid asked rolling her eyes. "We've going to bust you out to take you home with us."

"But you can't magic me out either—"

"We don't need to," said Astrid, jerking his head towards the front seats and grinning. "You forget who I've got with me."

"Tie that round the bars," said Double, throwing the end of a rope to Hiccup.

"If the Dalssons wake up, I'm dead," said Hiccup, as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Double revved up the car.

"Don't worry," said Double, "and stand back."

Hiccup moved back into the shadows next to Sharpshot, who seemed to have realised how important this was and kept still and silent. The car revved louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Double drove straight up in the air. Hiccup ran back to the window to see the bars dangling a few feet above the ground. Astrid then hoisted them up into the car. Hiccup listened anxiously, but there was no sound from the Dalssons' bedroom.

When the bars were safely in the back seat with Astrid, Double revered as close as possible to Hiccup's window.

"Get in," Astrid said.

"But all my Berk stuff… my crystal eye… my saddle…"

"Where are they?"

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room—"

"No problem," said Trouble and looked at Astrid. "Sis, mind if I borrow a hairpin?"

Astrid nodded and pulled a hairpin out of her hair. This surprised Hiccup, because Astrid wasn't the mind of girl that cared about her looks, in fact when he asked her she said, "I'm more the old-fashioned, 'take you opponent with an axe and lop their head off' kind of girl."

After being handed with the hairpin from Astrid Double and Trouble climbed carefully through the window into Hiccup's room. Trouble then began to pick the lock on his door.

"A lot of Vikings normal would try to kick the door down or something and think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of Muggle trick," said Double, "but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow."

"It's also less noise," Trouble added.

There was a small click and the door swung open.

"So—we'll get your trunk—you grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Astrid," whisper Trouble.

"Watch out for the bottom stair, it creaks," Hiccup whispered back, as the twin disappeared onto the dark landing.

Hiccup dashed around his room, collecting his things together and passing them out of the window to Astrid. While doing this Hiccup couldn't help, but think how beautiful she looked in the moonlight, he had this stupid crush on her the first time he meet her and that didn't go very smoothly. At first she didn't want anything to do with him, but that changed when he and Ragnar saved her from a mountain troll on Hallowe'en. Even after that Hiccup found it hard to contact around her and knew wooing her doesn't wrong, because every boy that tried ended up in the Heal Centre. Also he didn't know if she felt the same way around him and didn't want to lose their friendship because of it.

After passing his things to her, he went to help Double and Trouble heaving his trunk up the stairs. Hiccup heard Uncle Magnus cough.

At last, panting, they reached the landing then carried the trunk through Hiccup's room to the open window. Double climbed back into the car to pull with Astrid, and Hiccup and Trouble pushed from the bedroom side. Inch by inch, the trunk slid through the window.

Uncle Magnus coughed again.

"A bit more," panted Double, who was pulling from inside the car, one good push…"

Hiccup and Trouble threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back of the car.

"Okay, let's go," Trouble whispered.

But as Hiccup climbed onto the window-still there came a sudden loud roar from behind him, followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Magnus' voice.

"THAT BLASTED LIZARD!"

"I've forgotten Sharpshot!"

Hiccup tore back across the room as the landing light clicked on. He snatched up Sharpshot's cage, dashed to the window and passed it out to Astrid. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Magnus hammered on the unlocked door and it crashed open.

For a split second, Uncle Magnus stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Hiccup, grabbing him by the ankle.

Astrid, Double and Trouble seized Hiccup's arms and pulled as hard as they could.

"RUNE!" roared Uncle Magnus. "He's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!" He then glared at Hiccup. "OH NO BOY, YOU AND THAT BLASTED LIZARD AREN'T GOING ANYWHERE!"

But the Hofferson's gave a gigantic tug and Hiccup's leg slid out of Uncle Magnus's grasp. This made him tumble out of the window, but he landed safely on the shrubs below. As soon as Hiccup was in the car and had slammed the door shut Astrid yelled, "Put your foot down, Fred!" and the car shot suddenly towards the moon.

Hiccup couldn't believe it, he was free. He wound down the window, the night air whipped his hair, it was a feeling he liked when he flew on Toothless' back, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Aunt Runa and Olaf were looking at Uncle Magnus, who was looking at the flying car dumbstruck, out of Hiccup's window.

"I'll see you next summer!" Hiccup yelled.

The Hofferson's roared with laughter and Hiccup settled back in his sear, smiling happily.

"Let Sharpshot out," he told Astrid, "he can fly behind us. He hasn't had a chance to stretch his wings for ages."

Trouble handed Astrid back hairpin and a moment later, Sharpshot was out of the cage and once Hiccup removed the muzzle he, joyfully, flew out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost.

"Since when did you care about your looks?" Hiccup asked, as Astrid placed the hairpin back into her hair.

"Never, I only have one just in case Double or Trouble need it," she said glaring at him. "People don't think it strange that a girl has a hairpin then her older brother."

Hiccup nodded at the logic.

"Thanks for saving me?" he said.

"We're even now and besides I was worried about you," said Astrid. Hiccup wasn't sure with it being so dark, but he could have sworn that Astrid was blushing. "Speaking of which, what's been happening?"

Hiccup told them all about Dobby, the warning he'd give Hiccup and the fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long shocked silence when he had finished.

"Very fishy," said Double finally.

"Definitely dodgy," agreed Trouble. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," said Hiccup. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."

He saw Double and Trouble look at each other.

"What, you think he was lying to me?" said Hiccup.

"Well," said Double, "put it this way… house-elves, like other elves, have powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Berk. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at the academy with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," said Hiccup and Astrid together, instantly.

"Snotlout Jorgenson," Hiccup explained. "He hates me."

"Snotlout Jorgenson?" said Trouble, turning around. "Not Spitelout Jorgenson's son?"

"Don't know his father's name, but Jorgenson isn't a common name," said Hiccup. "Why?"

"I've heard Dad talking about him," said Trouble. "He was a big supporter of the Dragon Lord."

"And when the Dragon Lord disappeared," said Double, craning around to look at Hiccup, "Spitelout Jorgenson came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dragon dung—Dad reckons he was right in the Dragon Lord's inner circle."

Hiccup had heard these rumours about Snotlout's family before, and they didn't surprise him at all. Snotlout like Olaf, but had a massive ego making Olaf look like a kind, thoughtful and sensitive boy.

"Isn't Snotlout the one that keeps on hitting you?" Trouble asked Astrid.

"Yes, he keeps saying that he can spare me from my family's dishonour," said Astrid bitterly.

"Like father like soon," said Trouble. "I heard that Spitelout hit on every pretty girl he meant, apart from Muggle-borns."

"I don't know whether the Jorgenson's own a house-elf…" said Hiccup.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old Viking family, and they'll be rich," said Double.

"Yeah, Mum's always wished we had a house-elf to do the ironing," said Trouble. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and fortresses and places like that, you wouldn't catch one n our house…"

Hiccup was silent. Judging by the fact that Snotlout usually had the best of everything, his family were rolling in Viking gold; he could just see Snotlout strutting around a large manor house. Sending the family servant to stop Hiccup going back to Berk also sound exactly like the sort of thing Snotlout would do. Had Hiccup been stupid to take seriously?

Astrid then spoke up. "At least this explains why we hadn't heard from you. I thought it was Errol's fault at first—"

"Who's Errol?"

"Our Terrible Terror. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermod—"

"_Who?"_

"The Terrible Terror Mum and Dad bought Sven when he was made a prefect," said Double.

"Sven's been acting very oddly this summer," said Trouble, frowning. "And he _has_ been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room… I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a Prefect badge… You're driving too far west, Double," he added, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Double twiddled the steering wheel.

"So, does your Dad know you've got the car?" said Hiccup guessing the answer.

"Uh, no," said Astrid, "he had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it."

"Why didn't you fly by dragon?"

"Because we've only got two dragons at home and Dad rode his to work."

"What does your Dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?"

"He works in the most boring department," said Astrid. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"The _what_?"

"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old Valkyrie died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare. Dad was working overtime for weeks."

"What happened?"

"Turned out the old Valkyrie was able to use Water Magic and made her teapot shoot water into cups. The only problem was that in the hands of a Muggle it went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in hospital somehow he ended up with sugar tongs clamped to his noise. Dad was going frantic, it's only him and an old Viking called Perknut in the office, and they had to do a Memory spell and all sorts to cover it up…"

"But your Dad… this car…"

Double laughed. "Yeah, Dad's mad about everything to do with Muggles, our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it and puts it back together. That's how he got the name Arnbjorn the Tinker. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself straight under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

"That's the main road," said Trouble, peering down through the windscreen. "We'll be there in ten minutes… just as well, it's getting light…"

A faint pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east.

Double brought the car lower and Hiccup saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.

"We're a little way outside the village," said Trouble. "Ottery St Catchpole…"

Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the tress.

"Touchdown!" said Double as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard and Hiccup looked out for the first time at Astrid's house.

It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigsty, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several storeys high and so crooked it looked as though it was held up by magic (which, Hiccup reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, "The Burrow". Next to the building was a stable where an orange and blue Deadly Nadder slept (Hiccup guessed it was Mrs Hofferson's). Round the front door lay a jumble of thick leather boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

"It's not much, but its home," said Astrid.

"I think it's _brilliant_," said Hiccup happily, thnking of Privet Drive.

They got out of the car.

"Can I just ask how you're going to explain how I turned up, at your house, in just one night?" Hiccup asked.

"It's simple," said Double as they made their way to the front door. "We'll go upstairs really quietly and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast. Then Astrid, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see you and no one need ever know we flew the car."

"I'm afraid that's not going to work," said Astrid looking at the front door.

They all turned and the twins turned a nasty greenish colour, their eyes fixed at what Astrid was staring at.

Mrs Hofferson was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a sabre-toothed tiger. Hiccup thought that she looked a lot like Astrid whenever she lost her temper.

"_Ah_," said Double.

"Were so dead," said Trouble.

Mrs Hofferson came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a plain apron and, rather worrying, had a double bladed axe sharped to back.

"_So_," she said.

"Morning, Mum," said Trouble, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs Hofferson in a deadly whisper.

"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to—"

Astrid looked like she was ready to fight. However, the twins, who were taller than their mother were cowered as her rage broke over them.

"_Beds empty! No note! Care gone… could have crashed… out of my mind with worry… did you care? Never, as long as I've lived… you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bjorn or Riptide or Sven…_"

"Oh, not Sven again," muttered Double.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF SVEN'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs Hofferson, prodding a finger in Double's chest. You could have _died_, you could have been _seen_, you could have lost your father his_ job_," She then turned on Astrid, "and Astrid I thought you would have known better!"

"I was trying to help a friend!" Astrid yelled.

"And did you think of the consequences of your actions?!"

"They were starving him, Mum and there were bars on his window!"

"You better hope I don't put bars on your window Astrid Hofferson!"

The two Valkyries yelled at each other for what felt like hours. Both Double and Trouble were looking quite scared and Hiccup couldn't blame them. Finally mother and daughter voices went hoarse and Mrs Hofferson turned on Hiccup, who backed away.

"I'm very pleased to see you, Hiccup, dear," she said, "Come in and have some breakfast."

She turned and walked back into the house and Hiccup, after a nervous glance at Astrid, who nodded encouragingly, followed her.

The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle and Hiccup sat down on the edge of his sear, looking around. He had never been in a Viking house before.

The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like "Time to make tea", "Time to feed the chickens' and 'You're late'. Books were attacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like _Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking_ and _one Minute Feasts—It's Magic!_ And unless Hiccup's ears were deceiving him, the old radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was 'Valkyrie Hour, with the popular singing Valkyrie, Warbeck the Singer."

Mrs Hofferson was clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons and daughter as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered things like "don't know _what_ you were thinking of," and "_never_ would believe it".

"I don't blame _you_, dear," she assured Hiccup, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate, "Arnbjorn and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Astrid by Friday. But really, (she was now aging fired eggs to his plate), "flying an illegal car halfway across the country… anyone could have seen you—"

She snapped her fingers and water shot out of the tap in the sink and it began to clean the dishes by itself.

"It was _cloudy_, mum" said Trouble.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs Hofferson snapped.

"Mum, we didn't mean any harm," said Astrid, looking at ashamed. "I was just worried about Hiccup and convinced Double and Trouble to help me."

Mrs Hofferson looked at Astrid and sighed. "I know you were worried dear, but there is a right way to do things and flying an _illegal_ car isn't one of them," she said, but then she looked at Hiccup, who was eating quite quickly, "though I doubt he could have survive Friday if they were starving him."

After that she softened up a bit and began cutting Hiccup bread and buttering it for him.

At that moment, there was a diversion in the form of a small blond-headed figure in pyjamas, who appeared in the kitchen and when he saw Hiccup he just stared at him with wide eyes.

"Uh, hi," was all Hiccup could say. He then rushed out as fast as his legs could carry him. Hiccup looked at Astrid, whose face showed amusement. "What did I do?"

"Ripper," said Astrid trying to hold back her laugher. "My little brother has been talking about you all summer."

"Yeah, he's like you biggest fan," grinned Double, by the caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.

"By Odin, I'm tired," yawned Double, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and—"

"You will not," snapped Mrs Hofferson. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. you're to de-gnome the garden for me, they're getting completely out of hand again."

"Oh, Mum—"

"And you two," she said, glaring at Astrid and Trouble. "You can go up to bed dear," she added to Hiccup. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car."

But Hiccup, who felt wide awake, said quickly, "I'll help Astrid, I've never seen a de-gnoming—"

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work," said Mrs Hofferson. "Now, let's see what Flashburn got to say on the subject."

And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. Trouble groaned.

"Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden."

Hiccup looked at the cover of Mrs Hofferson's book. Written across it in fancy gold letters were the words: Flashburn the Flashmaster's Guide to Household Pests. There was a big photograph on the front of a very good-looking Viking with wavy blond hair, a beautiful brushed beard and bright blue eyes. As always in the Viking world, the photograph was moving; the Viking, who Hiccup supposed was Flashburn the Flashmaster kept winking cheekily up at them all. Mrs Hofferson and Astrid beamed down at him.

"Oh, he is marvellous," said Astrid in a dream voice that Hiccup never thought he's hear.

"And he knows his household pests, all right; it's a wonderful book…"

"Bot Mum and Astrid fancy him," said Double, in a very audible whisper.

Next moment, Astrid punched him in the shoulder blushing and Mrs Hofferson looked slightly embarrassed.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Double," said Mrs Hofferson, her cheeks still bright pink. "All right, if you know better than Flashburn, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it."

"I never said I was better than Flashburn," Astrid muttered under her breath.

Yawning and grumbling, the Hoffersons slouched outside with Hiccup behind them. The garden was large and in Hiccup's eyes exactly what a garden should be. The Dalssons wouldn't have liked it—there were plenty of weeds, and the grass need cutting—but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants Hiccup had never seen spilling from every flowerbed and a big green pond full of frogs.

"Muggles have garden gnomes too, you know," Hiccup told Astrid as they crossed the lawn.

"Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes," said Astrid, bent double with his head in peony bush. "Like fat little Odin's with fishing rods…"

There was a violent scuffing noise, the peony bush shuddered and Astrid straightened up: "_this_ is a gnome," she said grimly.

It was certainly nothing like Odin. It was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobbly, bald head exactly like a potato. Astrid held it at arm's length as it kicked out at her with its horny little feet; she grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down.

"This is what you have to do," she said. She raised the gnome above her head ("Gerroff me!") and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Hiccup's face, Astrid added, "It doesn't _hurt _them. You've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnomeholes."

She let go of the gnome's ankles: it flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge.

"Pitiful," said Double. "I bet I can get mine beyond that stump."

"You don't have to do this you know," Astrid said to Hiccup, who was making his way to a bush.

"Are you kidding? This a lot more fun than chores the Dalssons gave me," said Hiccup, as bent down toward a bush. "Trust me I felt like Cinderella."

"Who's Cinderella?" Astrid asked confused.

"Never mind," said Hiccup.

Hiccup learnt quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing his weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Hiccup's finger and he had a hard job shaking it off until—

"Wow, Hiccup. That must've been fifty feet," said Double sounding impressed.

The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.

"See, they're not too bright," said Trouble, seizing five or six gnomes at once. "The moment they know the de-gnoming's going they storm up to have a look. You'd think they'd have learned by now just to stay put."

Soon, the crowd of gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line, their little shoulders hunched.

"They'll be back," said Astrid, as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. "They love it here… Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny…"

Just then they heard a dragon roar and the front door slammed.

"He's back!" said Trouble. "Dad's home!"

They hurried through the garden and back into the house.

Mr Hofferson was slumped in a kitchen chair with his eyes closed. He was a thin, just like Astrid, and was going bald, but the little hair he had was a blond as any of his children's. He was wearing a fur cape which was dusty and travel-worn.

"What a night," he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus tried to blast me when I had my back turned…"

Mr Hofferson took a long gulp of tea and sighed.

"Find anything, Dad?" said Double eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door-keys and a biting kettle," yawned Mr Hofferson. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though, Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Spells, thank Odin…"

"Why would anyone bother making door-keys shrink?" said Trouble.

"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr Hofferson. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it… of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their keys keeps shrinking. They'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic or admitting dragons excite, even if they are staring them in the face… but the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe." He then looked next to him and noticed Hiccup. "And who are you."

"Oh sorry, sir," said Hiccup. "I'm Hiccup, Hiccup Haddock."

"Odin's bread, are you really? Well, Astrid's told us all about you of course. When did he get here?"

"This morning," said Mrs Hofferson, glaring at her husband. "And while we're on the subject of enchanted Muggle items. When were you going to tell me that you placed a powerful bit of Wind Magic on that rust car you bought, when you told me all you wanted to take it apart to see how it worked."

Mr Hofferson blinked.

"Well, Ingrid, dear, I think you'll find that I am quite within the law to do that, even if, uh, I'd done better to tell my loving wife the truth… There's a loophole in the law, you'll find… as long as he wasn't _intending_ to fly the car, the fact that the car _could_ fly wouldn't—"

"Arnbjorn Hofferson, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" shouted Mrs Hofferson. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information your daughter and sons flew that car to Hiccup's house and back last night in the car you weren't intending to fly! What have you got to say about that, eh?"

"Did you really?" said Mr Hofferson eagerly. "How did it go? I-I mean," he faltered, as sparks flew from Mrs Hofferson's eyes, "that was very wrong, very wrong indeed…"

Let's leave them to it," Astrid muttered to Hiccup, as Mrs Hofferson swelled like a bullfrog. "Come one, I'll show you my bedroom."

They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which zigzagged its way up through the house. It was until they reached the third landing that Hiccup finally spoke.

"You sure it's all right to sleep with you?" Hiccup asked feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Of course it's all right," said Astrid. "Mum and Dad agreed with me that my bedroom was the best for you. Sven would bore you to death, Double and Trouble's room keeps exploding and Ripper would run out the second you step in."

Hiccup then noticed a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him before it closed with a snap.

"See what I mean," said Astrid. "He's never that shy and it's weird."

They climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying "Astrid's Room."

Hiccup stepped in; his head almost touched the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a deep dark forest: nearly everything in Astrid's room seemed to be a violent shade of dark green: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Then Hiccup realised that Astrid had covered nearly every inch of shabby wallpaper with posters of the same seven Valkyries, all wearing dark green Viking outfits, with different dragons standing behind them and waving energetically.

"Your Dragon Racing team?" Hiccup asked.

"The Holyhead Harpies," said Astrid, pointing at the dark green bedspread, which was emblazoned with a gold talon. "They're both brilliant and dangerous."

Astrid's academy spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner. Astrid's axe, with her crystal eye still in it, was hooked to the wall. Scabbers, Astrid's pet rat, was snoozing on the window-still in a patch of sun.

Hiccup stepped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out of the tiny window. In the field far below he could see a gang of gnomes sneaking one by one back through the Hofferson's hedge. Then he turned to look at Astrid, who was watching her almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion.

"It's a bit small," said Astrid quickly. "Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic, he's always banging on the pipes and groaning…"

But Hiccup, grinning widely, said, "This is the best house I've ever been in."

Astrid face went pink.


	4. At Flourish and Blotts

**I'm sorry for the slow update, but I have now started University** **so updates will be slower for now on.**

* * *

><p>Astrid could see that for Hiccup life in The Burrow was a lot different than his life at Privet Drive. From what Hiccup told about the Dalssons they liked everything neat and ordered, so to find her house burst with strange and unexpected things was making him feel nervous. Astrid almost laughed on the look of shock on his face the first time he looked in the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece and when it shouted back, "<em>Put your helmet on, scruffy!<em>" Also he jumped every time the ghoul in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were too quiet and when small explosions happened in Double and Trouble's bedroom. But the thing that made him more nervous than anything else was the fact that the rest of her family seemed to like him and she couldn't blame him after being stuck eleven years with those people who call themselves _normal people_.

Her mother fussed over the state of his cloths and tried to force him to eat fourth helpings at every meal. He father liked Hiccup to sit next to him at dinner table so that he could bombard him with questions about life with Muggles, asking him to explain how things called plugs and postal service worked.

"_Amazing!_" he would say, as Hiccup talked him through using a something called a fellytone or something, "_Ingenious_, really, how many way Muggles have found of getting along without magic."

In Astrid's option it sounded like they like making life difficult for themselves'.

They didn't hear from Berk until a nice sunny morning about a week after he had arrived at The Burrow. She and Hiccup went down to breakfast to find her mum and dad and Ripper already sitting at the kitchen table. The moment he saw Hiccup, Ripper accidentally knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter.

"Oh, for the last time Ripper," said Astrid getting tired of saying this over and over again. "Just pretend that he's someone else like a… I don't know a scrawny looking Viking."

"Thanks Astrid, you really know what to say," said Hiccup in a sarcastic tone.

"Enough of that, dears," said Mum, as they sat down.

"Here your letters, you two," said Dad, passing Astrid and Hiccup identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressing in green ink. "Heyral already knows you're here, Hiccup, doesn't miss a trick, that man. You two have got them, too," he added, as Double and Trouble ambled in, still in their pyjamas.

For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Astrid's told her to catch the Berk Express as usual form Kings Cross station on September the first. There was also a list of the new books she'd need for the coming year.

Second year students will require:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 _by Goshhawk the Guiding

_Duel with a Dark-elf_ by Flashburn the Flashmaster

_Gadding with Ghouls_ by Flashburn the Flashmaster

_Holiday with Hags_ by Flashburn the Flashmaster

_Travels with Trolls_ by Flashburn the Flashmaster

_Dancing with Demons_ by Flashburn the Flashmaster

_Wandering with Werewolves_ by Flashburn the Flashmaster

_Fighting with Frost-giants _by Flashburn the Flashmaster

Double, who had finished his own list, peered over at Astrid's.

"You've been told to get all Flashburn's books too!" he said. "The new Combat Arts teacher must be a fan—bet it's a Valkyrie."

At this point, Double caught both Astrid's and their mother's eyes and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.

"That lot won't come cheap," said Trouble, with a quick look at his parents. "Flashburn's books are really expensive…"

"Well, we'll manage," said Mum, but she looked worried. Astrid couldn't blame her they weren't exactly rich. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ripper's things second-hand."

"Oh, are you starting at Berk this year?" Hiccup asked Ripper.

He nodded, looking both nervous and embarrassed that Hiccup had talked to him. He was so nervous and embarrassed that he put his elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately no one saw this except Astrid and Hiccup, because Astrid's elder brother Sven walked in. He was already dressed as always and just like always he had his Berk prefect badge pinned to his knitted tank top.

"Morning, all," said Sven briskly. "Lovely day."

He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a very old, grey scaled, Terrible Terror.

"Errol!" said Astrid, taking the limp Terrible Terror from Sven and extracting a letter from his leg. "_Finally_—he's got Ragnar's answer. I wrote to him saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dalssons."

Astrid carried Errol to a perch just inside the back of the door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so she laid him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Then she ripped open Ragnar's letter and read it out loud:

_Dear Astrid, and Hiccup if you're there,_

_I hope the rescue mission went off without a hitch and that Hiccup is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Astrid, because that would get Hiccup into trouble, too, though knowing you and your twin brothers you probably did. Anyway, like you I've been worried about Hiccup and if he's all right, will you please let me know at once, but I suggest that you should use a different Terrible Terror, because I think another delivery might finish your one off._

_I'm very busy with work we got from the academy, of course_—"Just like him to be busy during the holidays," said Astrid in disbelief—_and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?_

_Let me know what's happening as soon as you can, Ragnar._

"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," said Mum, starting to clean the table. "What're you all up to today?"

Astrid, Hiccup, Ripper, Double and Trouble were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock that they owned. It was surrounded by trees that blocked it from view of the village below, meaning that they could practice Dragon Racing there, as long as they didn't fly too high. They couldn't use real Dragon Racing balls, which would have been hard to explain if they had escaped and flown away over the village; instead they threw apples at each other to catch. Also they had to fly on wild dragons that lived close by, because Hiccup, Double and Trouble's dragons were back at Berk and Astrid and Ripper didn't own one yet. They took it in turns to ride on Hiccup's Nimbus Two Thousand, which was easily the best saddle; Astrid's and Rippers old Shooting Star made the dragons so slow that they could be passed by passing butterflies. Also since they had an odd number of people Astrid or Ripper found themselves taking it in turns act as referee.

Five minutes later they were marching up the hill, saddles in their arms. They had asked Sven if he wanted to join them, but he had said he was busy. In fact the only time they ever see Sven was at meal-times; he stayed in his room the rest of the time.

"Wish I knew what he was up to," said Double, frowning. "He's not himself. His exams results came the day before you did; twelve O.V.L.s and he hardly gloated at all."

"Ordinary Viking Levels," Trouble explained, seeing Hiccup's puzzled look. "Bjorn got twelve too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame."

Bjorn was Astrid's oldest brother. He and her next brother Riptide, had already felt Berk. Hiccup had never met them, but Astrid told him that him that Riptide was now called, "the Researcher", he studied magical gems in Romania and Bjorn, who was now called, "the Bold", he was in the Barbaric Archipelago, the homeland of all Vikings in the world, working for the Viking bank, Gringotts.

"Dunno hoe Mum and Dad are going to afford all our academy stuff this year," said Trouble after a while. "Five sets of Flashburns books! And Ripper needs proper Viking clothing, a Crystal eye and everything…"

Astrid couldn't help, but thing that Trouble had a point. Unlike her two friends, she didn't have a small fortune in Gringotts like Hiccup and unlike Ragnar she could trade in Muggle money, unless you count the fifty pence piece that she got from Hiccup last Snoggletog, but judging from his expression it wasn't worth much.

* * *

><p>Astrid's mother woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their fur coats and her mother took the flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.<p>

"We're running low, Arnbjorn," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today… ah well, guest first! After you, Hiccup dear!"

And she offered him the flowerpot.

Hiccup stared at them all watching him. Astrid then realised what the problem was.

"Uh, Mum, Hiccup's never travelled by Floo powder," she said. "Sorry, Hiccup, I forgot."

"Never?" Dad said. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your academy things last year?"

"Gobber flew me over there on Grump."

"Well, I'm afraid that'll take too long, dear. Besides we've only got two dragons with us," her mother said.

"Don't worry, Mum," said Double. "Hiccup, can watch us go first."

He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire and threw the powder into the flames.

With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Double, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.

Astrid looked at Hiccup, who was just stared with his eyes widened at the place were Double just vanished; she couldn't blame him for looking a bit nervous.

"You must speak clearly, dear," her mother told Hiccup, as Trouble dipped his hand into the flowerpot, "And mind you get out at the right grate…"

"The right what?" said Hiccup nervously, as the fire roared and whipped Trouble out of sight too.

"Well, there are an awful lot of Viking fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly—"

"He'll be fine, Ingrid, don't fuss," Dad said.

"What will his aunt and uncle say if he got lost?"

"Mum, we rescued him from his room which had bars on his window," said Astrid rolling her eyes.

"She's right," said Hiccup. "Olaf would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney."

"Well… all right… you can go next," Mum said. "Now, when you get into the fire say where you're going—"

"And keep your elbows tucked in," Astrid advised.

"And your eyes shut," said Mum, "The soot—"

"Don't fidget," said Astrid. "Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace—"

"But don't panic and get out too early, wait until you see Double and Trouble."

Looking at Hiccup, Astrid believed they made him feel even more nervous. Hiccup took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames and stepped forward.

"Diagonalley," he said.

Then just like Double and Trouble he vanished. However, Astrid had a feeling they couldn't be meeting him in the Leaky Cauldron and her mother was think on the shame lines.

"What did he say, dear?" she asked.

"Diagonalley," Dad said.

"I thought he did," said Mum in a worried tone.

* * *

><p>Hiccup wasn't having a very enjoyable trip, it felt like being sucked down a giant plug hole. He was spinning so face he thought he was going to be sick… he prayed to very god he could think of to make it stop.<p>

Next second, he came zooming out of a fireplace. He was dizzy, bruised and covered in soot; he got to his feet gingerly and brushed the soot out of his eyes. He soon discovered that he wasn't in the Leaky Cauldron; he could tell that it was a large, dimly-lit Viking shop, but nothing in the place was ever likely to be on a Berk school list.

A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a blood-stained pack off cards and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks leered down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter and rusty, spiked instrument hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the dark, narrow street Hiccup could see through the dusty shop windows was definitely not Diagon Alley.

Every bone in his body told him to get out and get out fast. He quickly made his way, silently, to the door, but before he made it halfway towards it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass and one of them was the very last person Hiccup wanted to meet, it was Snotlout Jorgenson.

Hiccup quickly looked around to find a place to hide and found the perfect place. It was a large black cabinet, without a second thought he shot inside it and pulled the doors to, leaving a small crack to peer through. Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Snotlout stepped into the shop.

The man who followed could only be his father. He had the same black hair and a beard that was poorly shaved. Mr Jorgenson crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, "Touch nothing, Snotlout."

Snotlout, who had reached for the glass eye, said, "I thought you were going to buy me a present."

"I said I would buy you a racing saddle," said his father, and began to bang his fist on the counter.

"What's the good of that if I'm not on the house team?" said Snotlout, looking bad-tempered. "Hiccup Haddock got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year and he rides a Night Fury. Special permission from Heyral the Wise so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good and he's a runt, it's just because he's _famous_… famous for having a stupid _scar_ on his forehead."

Snotlout bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls.

"Everyone thinks he's so _smart_ and _brave_, wonderful _Hiccup_ with his _scar_, his _saddle_ and his _Night Fury_—"

"It would have thought that would give you more reason to be better than him," said Mr Jorgenson, angry look on his son, "and I would remind you that it is not a good idea to appear less fond of Hiccup Haddock, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dragon Lord disappear—ah, Borgin."

A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face and brushed his scruffy beard.

"Spitelout, what a pleasure to see you again," said Borgin in a voice as oily as his hair. "Delighted—and young Master Snotlout, too—charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably price—"

"I'm not buying today Borgin, but selling," said Spitelout.

"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Borgin's face.

"You have heard, of course, that a roll of parchment from his inside his trouser pocket and unravelling it for Borgin to read. "I have a few, ah, items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call…"

Borgin looked down the list.

"The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"

Spitelout lip curled.

"I have not been visited yet. The name Jorgenson still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. I've heard rumours about a new Muggle Protection Act—no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arnbjorn the Tinker is behind it."

"His daughter is quite hot though," said Snotlout, as he looked at the other times on display.

"As that maybe—I cannot allow the two of you to form a relationship unless she admit that her family are a disgraces to the name of Viking."

Hiccup felt a hot surge of anger.

Spitelout then turned back to Borgin.

"As you can see, certain of these poisons might make it _appear_—"

"I understand, sir, of course," said Borgin. "Let me see…"

"Can I have _that_?" interrupted Snotlout, pointing at the withered hand on it cushion.

"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" said Borgin, abandoning Spitelout's list and scurrying over to Snotlout. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."

"I hope my boy will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," said Spitelout coldly and Borgin said quickly, "No offence, sir, no offence meant—"

"Though if his school marks don't pick up," said Spitelout, more coldly still, "that may indeed be all he is fit for."

"It's not my fault," retorted Snotlout. "The teachers, apart from Grabbit, all have favourites, that Ragnar Keatson—"

"No Jorgenson has never—never let a Viking or Valkyrie with no magical parents beat them in anything!" said Spitelout furiously. "Don't you be the first."

Snotlout now looked scared and Hiccup could help but enjoy the on his face.

"It's the same all over," said Borgin, in his oily voice. "Viking blood is counting for less everywhere—"

"Not with me," said Spitelout, his eyes flaring.

"No, sir, nor with me, sir," said Borgin, with a deep bow.

"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list," said Borgin shortly. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today."

They started to haggle. Hiccup watched nervously as Snotlout drew nearer and nearer to his hiding place, examining the object for sale. He paused to examine a long coil if hangman's rope and to read, smirking. The card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals; _Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed—Has Claimed the lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date_.

Snotlout turned away and saw the cabinet right in front of him. He walked forward… he stretched out his hand for the handle…

"Done," said Spitelout at the counter. "Come, Snotlout!"

Hiccup wiped his forehead on his sleeve as Snotlout turned away.

"I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods, Borgin."

Thee moment the door had closed, Borgin dropped his oily manner.

"If the stories are true, _Spitelout the Stern_, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your _manor_…"

Muttering darkly, Borgin disappeared into a back room. Hiccup waited for a minute in case he came back, then, quietly as he could, slipped out of the cabinet, past the glass cases and out of the shop door.

He had emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the dark magic. The one he'd just left, Borgin and Burkes, looked like the largest, but opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads, and two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black spiders. Two shabby-looking Vikings were watching him from the shadows of a doorway, muttering to each other. Feeling jumpy, Hiccup set off, hoping against hope he'd be able to find a way out of there.

An old wooden street sign hanging over a shop selling poisonous candles told him he was in Knockturn Alley. This didn't help, as Hiccup had never hears of such a place. He remembered that he spoke a little too fast in the Hofferson's fire.

"Not lost are you, my dear?" said a voice in his ear, making him jump.

An aged Valkyrie stood in front of him, holding a tray of what looked horribly like whole human fingernails. She leered at him, showing mossy teeth. Hiccup backed away.

"I'm fine, thanks," he said. "I'm just—"

"HICCUP! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?"

Hiccup heart leapt. So did the Valkyrie; a load of fingernails cascaded down over her feet and she cursed as the massive form of Gobber the Belch, Berk's Forge Master, came striding towards them, clear-blue eyes flashed over his long, blond, rope like moustache.

"Gobber!" Hiccup croaked in relief. "I was lost… Floo powder…"

Gobber seized Hiccup by the scruff of the neck and pulled him away from the Valkyrie, knocking the try right out of her hands. Her shrieks followed them all the way along the twisting alleyway out into bright sunlight. Hiccup saw a familiar, snow-white marble building in the distance: Gringotts bank. Gobber had steered him right into Diagon Alley.

"Yer a mess!" said Gobber gruffly, brushing soot off Hiccup with his one good hand. Gobber had lost both an arm and a leg during the Viking War against Drago Bludvist. He brushed him so hard that he almost fell into a barrel of dragon dung outside an apothecary. "Skulkin' around Knocktuen Alley, I dunno—dodgy place, Hiccup—don' want no-one ter see yeh down there. People will think yer up to no good."

"I realised _that_," said Hiccup, ducking as Gobber made to brush him off again. "I told you, I was lost—wait a minute, what were you doing down there, anyway?"

"_I_ was lookin' fer a some leather," growled Gobber. "I'm runnin' short. Yer not on yer own?"

"I'm sating with the Hoffersons but we got separated," Hiccup explained. "I've got to go and find them…"

They set off together down the street.

"So, how's Toothless?" Hiccup asked, as he jogged alongside Gobber (he had to take three steps to every stride of Gobbers enormous boot and pegged leg.

"Oh, fine," said Gobber, with a little chuckle. "But he miss, ya. I'm betting he'll run into you and lick all over you the moment he sees you."

"I'll remember to buy some water proof clothing then," said Hiccup.

"By the way, Hiccup. How come yeh never wrote back ter me?" Gobber asked. Hiccup explained all about Dobby and the Dalssons.

"Ruddy Muggles," growled Gobber. "If I'd have known—"

"Hiccup! Hiccup! Over here!"

Hiccup looked up and saw Ragnar Keatson standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. He ran down to meet them.

"What happened to you?" hello, Gobber… Oh it's _great_ to see you two again… are you coming into Gringotts, Hiccup?"

As soon as I've found the Hoffersons," said Hiccup.

"Yeh won't have long ter wait," grinned Gobber.

Hiccup and Ragnar looked around; sprinting up the crowded street were Astrid, Double, Trouble, Sven and Mr Hofferson. Astrid was the first to arrive and quickly gave him a big hug, but quickly pulled away and punched him hard on the shoulder.

"That's for scaring me," she said looking cross.

"Hiccup," Mr Hofferson panted. "We _hoped_ you'd only gone one fireplace to far…" He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Ingrid's frantic—she's coming now."

"Where did you end up anyway?" Astrid asked.

"Knockturn Alley," said Gobber grimly.

"_Brilliant!_" said Double and Trouble together.

"We've never been allowed in," Astrid explained.

"I should ruddy well think not," growled Gobber.

Mrs Hofferson now came galloping into view, her satchel swinging wildly in one hand. Ripper was running beside her trying to keep up.

"Oh Hiccup—oh, my dear—you could have been anywhere—"

Gasping for breath she pulled a large clothes brushing out of her satchel and began sweeping off the soot Gobber hadn't managed to beat away.

"Well, gotta be off," said Gobber, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs Hofferson ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Gobber!"). "Seer yer at Berk!" And he hobbled away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in a packed street.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Hiccup asked Astrid and Ragnar as they climbed the Gringotts steps. "Snotlout and his father."

"Did Spitelout buy anything?" said Mr Hofferson sharply behind them.

"No, he was selling."

"So he's worried," said Mr Hofferson with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Spitelout the Stern for something…"

"You be careful, Arnbjorn," said Mrs Hofferson sharply, as they were ushered into the bank by a bowing Dwarf at the door. "The Jorgenson family are trouble; don't go biting off more than you can chew."

Before Mr Hofferson said anything, Ragnar's mother walked up to them. She was a pretty, tall woman with ash-black hair; she had Ragnar's chocolate-brown eyes. Her face was kind and she seemed to be waiting for Ragnar to introduce her.

"Oh, guys this is my mum and Mum these are the friends I've told you about," said Ragnar gesturing to Hiccup and Astrid.

Mrs Keatson walked up to the two of them. "It's very nice meeting you," she said, shaking their hands. "Ragnar has told me all about you."

Mr Hofferson looked at if Snoggletog had come early.

"But you're a _Muggle!_" said Mr Hofferson delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Ingrid, look!" He pointed excitedly at the ten-pound notes in Mrs Keatson's hand.

Mrs Keatson looked nervous at Mr Hofferson's outburst.

"Arnbjorn, dear, calm yourself," Mrs Hofferson said. She then looked at Mrs Keatson with an apologetic look. "You must forgive my husband. He gets excited about every little Muggle thing. I'm Ingrid Hofferson, Astrid's mother."

Mrs Keatson then shook Mrs Hofferson's hand and said, "I'm Freida Keatson."

"Well talk later, but right now we need to get some money from our vaults."

"We'll meet you back here," Astrid said to Ragnar, as the Hoffersons and Hiccup were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts dwarf.

The vaults were reached by means of small dwarf-driven carts that sped along miniature train-tracks through the bank's underground tunnels. Hiccup enjoyed the break-neck journey down to the Hoffersons' vault, it reminded him of flying on Toothless' back, but once he reached their vault the feeling disappeared. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon. Mrs Hofferson felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her satchel. Hiccup felt even worse when they reached his vault. He tried to block the contents from view as he hastily shoved handfuls of coins into a leather bag.

Back outside on the marble steps, they all separated. Sven muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Double and Trouble had spotted their friend from Berk, Lock Jordson. Mrs Hofferson and Ripper were going to a second-hand cloth shop. Mr Hofferson was insisting on taking Mrs Keatson off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink.

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your Academy books," said Mrs Hofferson, setting off with Ripper. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley! She shouted at the twins' retreating backs.

Hiccup then looked at Astrid. "How come you're mum doesn't have a title?" he asked.

"Oh, she does," said Astrid smirking. "She just doesn't use it in mixed company."

"What is it?" Ragnar asked curiously.

Astrid looked around to make sure that no one can hear them and whispered, "Ingrid the Ill-tempered."

On that note, Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar strolled off along the winding, cobbled street. The bag of gold, silver and bronze jangling cheerfully in Hiccup's pocket was clamouring to be spent, so he bought three large strawberry and peanut butter ice-creams which they slurped happily as they wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows. Astrid gazed longingly at a full set of Holyhead Harpies Dragon Racing gear in the windows of "Dealing Dragon Racing Supplies" until Ragnar dragged them off to buy ink and parchment next door. In Gambol and Japes Viking Joke Shop, they met Double, Trouble and Lock Jordson, who were stocking up on "Filibuster the Fabulous' Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks", and in a tiny junk shop full of cracked crystal eyes, wonky brass and old capes covered in potion stains they found Sven, deeply immersed in a small and deeply boring book called _Prefect Who Gained Power._

"_A Study of Berk prefects and their later careers,_" Astrid read aloud off the back cover "That sounds _fascinating…"_

"Go away," Sven snapped.

"Course, he's very ambitious, Sven, he's got it all planned out… he wants to be Minister of Magic…" Astrid told Hiccup and Ragnar in an undertone, as they left Sven to it.

An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

FLASHBURN THE FLASHMASTER

will be signing copies of his autobiography

_MAGICAL ME_

today 12.30-4.30pm

Astrid did the one thing that Hiccup thought she never do in her lifetime, she squealed. "Well can actually meet him!" she said. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of Valkyries around Mrs Hofferson's age. A harassed-looking Viking stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please ladies… don't push, there… mind the books, now…"

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar squeezed inside. A long queue wound right to the back of the shop, where Flashburn the Flashmaster was signing his books. They grabbed a copy of _Duel with a Dark-elf,_ and sneaked up the line to where the rest of Hoffrsons were standing with Mrs Keatson.

"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs Hofferson. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a minute…"

Flashburn the Flashmaster came slowly into view, seared at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Flashburn was wearing forget-me-not blue cloths which exactly matched his eyes; his grand Viking helmet was set a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

A short, irritable looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ragnar, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the _daily Prophet._"

"Like I care," said Ragnar, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

Flashburn heard him. He looked up. He saw Ragnar—and then he saw Hiccup. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It _can't_ be Hiccup Haddock?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly. Flashburn dived forwards, seized Hiccup's arm and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Hiccup's face burned as Flashburn shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Hoffersons.

"Nce bug smile, Hiccup," said Flashburn, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

When he finally let go of Hiccup's hand, Hiccup could hardly feel his fingers. He tried to sidle back over to the Hoffersons, but Flashburn threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What and extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!"

"When young Hiccup here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography—which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge—" the crowd applauded again, "—he had _no idea,_" Flashburn continued, giving Hiccup a little shake, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my books, _Magical Me._ He and his academy fellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have pleasure and pride in announcing that this September; I will be taking up the post of Combat Art teacher at Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries!"

The crowd cheered and clapped and Hiccup found himself being presented with the entire works of Flashburn the Flashmaster. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ripper was standing next to his new cauldron.

He was now wearing a burning red shirt that had patched all over and his trousers were torn in places. His fur coat looked as if moths had being living in it at some point.

"You have these," Hiccup mumbled to him, tipping the books into the cauldron. "I'll buy my own—"

"What that blowhard sees is beyond me," said a voice Hiccup had no trouble recognising. He straightened up and found himself face to face with Snotlout Jorgenson, who was wearing his usual sneer.

"After all a true Viking is standing right here," said Snotlout. "Though I guess when someone is as _famous_ as you can't even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page."

"It's not like he asked for it!" said Ripper. It was the first time he had spoken in front of Hiccup. He was glaring at Snotlout.

"What are you the head of his fan club?" Snotlout asked. Ripper was turning red as Astrid and Ragnar fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Flashburn's books.

The moment Snotlout saw Astrid he straightened his hair and said, "Hello, there babe. What brings you to a place like this?"

"What do you think I'm doing in a bookshop," Astrid said rolling her eyes, "buying a dress?"

"Oh, I hope so," said Snotlout dreamily. "Though getting those books will make your family go hungry for a month. I could buy them for you if you go out on a date with me."

Astrid went as red as Ripper. She dropped her books into the cauldron too and started to charge at Snotlout, but Hiccup and Ragnar grabbed her arms and tried to pull her back.

"Astrid!" Mr Hofferson, struggling over with Double and Trouble. "What are you doing? It's mad in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well—Arnbjorn the Tinker."

It was Spitelout the Stern. He stood with his hand on Snotlout's shoulder sneering in just the same way.

"Spitelout," said Mr Hofferson, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Spitelout. "All those raids… I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ripper's cauldron and extracted, from amidst the glossy Flashburn books, a very old, very battered copy of _a Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration._

"Obviously not," he said. "If you're going to a disgrace to the name of Viking if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr Hofferson flushed darker than either Astrid or Ripper.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of Viking, Spitelout," he said.

"Clearly," said Spitelout, his pale eyes straying to Mrs Keatson, who was glaring at him. "The company you keep, Hofferson… and I thought after what happened to Fearless Finn you couldn't sink any lower." He then noticed Astrid and gave her a pity looking look. "Your daughter is quite beautiful, it's such a shame she was born into a family with no Viking pride—"

There was a thud of metal as Ripper's cauldron went flying; Mr Hofferson had thrown himself at Spitelout, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Double and Trouble; Mrs Hofferson was shrieking, "No, Arnbjorn, no!" the crowd stampeded backwards, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlmen, please—please!" cried the assistant and then, louder than all, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up—"

Gobber was wading towards them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled apart Mr Hofferson with his good hand and Spitelout with his icy hook. Mr Hofferson had a cut lip and Spitelout had been hit in the eye by an _encyclopaedia of Toadstools._ He was still holding Ripper's old transfiguration book. He thrust it at him, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, boy—take your book—it's the best your father can give you—"

Removing himself from Gobber's icy hook he beckoned to Snotlout and swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arnbjorn," said Gobber, almost lifting Mr Hofferson off his feet as he straightened his cape. "Rotten ter the core, the whole Family, everyone knows that. No Jorgenson worth listenin' ter. Bad blood, that's what it is. Come on now let's get outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Gobber's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, Mrs Keastson and Mrs Hofferson beside herself with fury.

"I take it that was the Jorgenson boy you told me about," Mrs Keatson said, looking at her son, who only nodded. "If he represents Viking kind I'm happy I'm a Muggle."

"I don't blame you," Mr Hofferson growled.

"A _fine_ example to set to your children… _brawling_ in public…" said Mrs Hofferson, "_what_ Flashburn the Flashmaster must've thought…"

"He was pleased," said Double. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the _Daily Prophet _if he'd be able to work the fight into his report—said it was all publicity."

But it was a subdued group who headed back to the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, where Hiccup, the Hoffersons and all their shopping would be travelling back to The Burrow using Floo powder. They said goodbye to Ragnar and his mother, who were leaving the pub for the Muggle street on the other side. Mr Hofferson started to ask them how bus stops worked, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs Hofferson's face.

Hiccup helped to himself to Floo powder and made sure to speak clearly this time, It was definitely wasn't his favourite way to travel.


	5. The Whomping Willow

The end of the summer holidays came too quickly for Hiccup's liking. He was looking forward to getting back to Berk, but his month at The Burrow had been the happiest of his life. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Astrid when he thought of the Dalssons and the sort of welcome he could expect next time he turned up in Privet Drive.

On their last evening Mrs Hofferson conjured up a sumptuous dinner which included all of Hiccup's favourite things, ending with a mouth-watering treacle pudding. Double and Trouble rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed.

It took a long while to get started next morning. They were up at cock-crow, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs Hofferson dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills, people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands, and Mr Hofferson nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ripper's trunk to the car.

Hiccup thought it would be impossible for eight people, six large trunks, two Terrible Terrors and a rat to fit in the small Ford Anglia. He had reckoned, of course, without the special features which Mr Hofferson had added.

"Not a word to Ingrid," he whispered to Hiccup as he opened the boot and showed him how it had been magically expanded so that trunks fitted easily.

When at last they were all in the car Mrs Hofferson glanced into the back seat, where Hiccup, Astrid, Double, Trouble and Sven were all sitting comfortably side by side, and said, "Muggles _do_ know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" She and Ripper got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"

Mr Hofferson started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard, Hiccup turning back for a last look at the house. He barely had time to wonder when he'd see it again when they were back: Trouble had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Double could run in for his saddle. They had almost reached the motorway when Ripper remembered that he'd left his diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, they were running very late, and tempers were running high.

Mr Hofferson glanced at his watch and then at his wife.

"Ingrid, dear—"

"_No,_ Arnbjorn."

"No one would see. This little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed—that's get us in the air—then we fly above the clouds, we'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser…"

"I said _no_, Arnbjorn, not in broad daylight."

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven, Mr Hofferson dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station.

Hiccup had caught the Berk Express the previous year. The tricky bit was getting onto the platform nine and three quarters, which wasn't visible to Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing.

"Sven, first," said Mrs Hofferson, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier.

Sven strode briskly forwards and vanished Mr Hofferson went next, Double and Trouble followed.

"I'll take Ripper and you two come right after us," Mrs Hofferson told Hiccup and Astrid, grabbing Ripper's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

"Let's go together, we've only got a minute," Astrid said to Hiccup.

"Hiccup made sure that Sharpshot's cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley about to face the barrier. He felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully towards the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run.

They didn't get very face, because their trolleys hit into the barrier with a loud crash and bounced backwards. Astrid's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Hiccup was knocked off his feet, and Sharpshot's cage bounced onto the shiny floor and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly. People all around them stared and a guard nearby yelled, "What in the name of Thor d'you think you're doing?"

"Lost control of the trolley," Hiccup gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up. Astrid picked up Sharpshot, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.

"Why can't we get through?" Hiccup hissed to Astrid.

"I don't know—"

Astrid looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them.

"We're going to miss the train," Astrid whispered. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself…"

Hiccup looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. The clock had just struck eleven.

"The train leaves exactly at eleven o'clock, we've missed it," said Hiccup, feeling slightly crest fallen.

"If we can't get through, then maybe Mum and Dad can't get back to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"

"You're joking right?" Hiccup said, giving a hollow laugh. "The Dalssons haven't given me any pocket money in the last six years."

Astrid pressed his ear to the cold barrier.

"Can't hear a thing," she said tensely. "What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us.

They looked around. People were still watching them, mainly because of Sharpshot's continuing roaring. Hiccup wasn't what they were seeing, but from the looks on their faces it looked like that seeing Sharpshot roaring was strange.

"We're attracting too much attention," said Hiccup. "I think it's best if we wait at the car and—"

"Hiccup!" said Astrid, her eyes gleaming. "The car!"

"What about it?"

"We can fly the car to Berk!"

"But I thought—"

"We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to the academy, right? And even under-age Vikings and Valkyries are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Whatever…"

Hiccup wasn't sure if this was a wise idea, but at this point he was desperate.

"Can you fly it?"

"No problem," said Astrid, wheeling her trolley around to face the exit. "C'mon, let's go, if we hurry we'll be able to follow the Berk Express."

And they matched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and back into the side road where the old Ford Anglia was parked.

Astrid opened the cavernous boot by using her axe as a lever. They heaved their trunks back in, put Sharpshot on the back seat and got into the front.

"Check no one's watching," said Astrid, starting the ignition with a tap of her crystal eye. Hiccup stuck his head out of the window: traffic was rumbling along the main road ahead, but their street was empty.

"Okay," he said.

Astrid pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around them vanished—and so did they. Hiccup could feel the seat vibrating beneath him, hear the engine and feel his hands on his knees, but for all he could see, he had become a pair of eyeballs, floating a few feet above the ground in a dingy street full of parked cars.

"This is weird," he said, looking at invisible hand.

"Get weird out later, we need to go," said Astrid's voice from his right.

The ground and the dirty building on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of London lay, smoky and glittering, below them.

It wasn't until they reached the country side when a pooping noise happened and the car, Hiccup and Astrid reappeared.

"Uh on," said Astrid, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. "It's faulty—"

"Let's try and find the train and then we can disappear in the clouds," said Hiccup.

Astrid nodded. They flew downwards and soon they found the train tracks. They then began to follow them hoping the train wasn't too far ahead of them.

"Now all we need to do is find the train," said Hiccup.

"It can't be far behind," said Astrid.

Then they heard a very familiar train whistle, it belong to the Berk Express.

"Do you hear that?" Hiccup asked excitedly.

"We must be getting close," said Astrid happily.

The whistling was getting louder, but they could see the train. Hiccup then suddenly had a terrible thought and looked at Astrid, who looked as though she had the same thought. They looked around and saw the scarlet train heading towards them from behind.

They both screamed and Astrid pulled up, narrowing missing the train. They didn't care down until they were about a hundred feet in the air.

"Well…" said Hiccup finally, "I think we found the train."

"You think?" said Astrid.

She then looked back down at the Berk Express below them; it looked like a scarlet snake.

"It's heading due north," said Astrid, checking the compass on the dashboard. "Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half an hour or so. Hold on…" And they shut up through the clouds. A minute later, they burst out into a blaze of sunlight.

The only other time Hiccup felt like this was riding Toothless and it was a good feel. He loved being so close to the clouds, being touched by the suns raise, looking up at the endless blue sky.

"It was amazing isn't it?" said Astrid.

"Yeah, it sure is," Hiccup agreed.

As they flew over the fluffy clouds a thought entered into his head. It had been something that was troubling him for a while, but he never said anything because he was worried what Astrid would saw.

"Who's Fearless Finn?" Hiccup asked. Astrid looked at him, as though she wanted to punch him. Seeing this made him nervous and he said quickly, "You don't have to tell me."

"No, it's all right," said Astrid sadly. "He was by favourite uncle; he was someone I looked up to. He was so fearless, nothing scared him, but during the Viking War he came face to face with a Flightmare and froze."

"But a Flightmare only paralyses you," said Hiccup, he had learnt that from the _Book of Dragons._

"Yeah, but some like the Jorgenson still think it like freezing with fear," Astrid said bitterly.

After that Hiccup decided to remain quiet and let Astrid continue to drive.

Soon the sky became dark and the stars were coming out. He hoped that they were getting close, because about half an hour ago, the car began to whine. "It's probably just tired. It's never flown this far before," said Astrid, though she did look nervous.

The whining had been getting louder, but when they next flew back beneath the clouds they saw a landmark they knew.

"_There!_" Hiccup shouted, making Astrid and Sharpshot jump. "Straight ahead!"

Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on a small island surround by a huge mountain stood a fortress and carved in the mountain was a castle. They had reached the island of Berk. Suddenly Hiccup felt a something burning on his chest. It was his Berk tattoo, which meant that this was indeed Berk, he was finally home.

But the car had begun to shudder and was losing speed.

"Come on," Astrid said angrily, giving the steering wheel a little shake, "nearly there, come on—"

The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam were issuing from under the bonnet. Hiccup found himself gripping the edge of his seat very hard as they flew towards the lake.

The car gave a nasty wobble. Glancing out of his window, Hiccup saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, a mile below. Astrid's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The car wobbled again.

"Come _on_!" Astrid yelled.

They were over the lake… the Grand Mountain was right ahead… put her foot down.

There was a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine died completely.

"Uh oh," said Astrid, into the silence.

The nose of the car dropped. They were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the Grand Mountain.

"_Noooooo!_" Astrid yelled, swinging the steering wheel around; they missed the mountain by inches as the car turned arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, over Mildew the Unpleasant's house and over the vegetable patch, losing height all the time.

Astrid let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled her crystal eye out.

"STOP! STOP!" she yelled, slamming the dashboard and the windscreen, but they were still plummeting, the ground flying up towards them…

"MIND THAT TREE!" Hiccup bellowd, lunging for the steering wheel, but was too late.

With an ear-splitting bang of metal on wood, they hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled bonnet; Sharpshot was roaring in terror, Hiccup was rubbing the large lump he got when he had hit the windscreen, and to his right, Astrid let out a low despairing groan.

"Are you okay?" Hiccup asked urgently.

"My crystal eye," said Astrid, in annoyed voice. "Look at it."

There was a huge crack running all the way through it.

Hiccup opened his mouth to say he was sure they'd be able to mend it up at the academy, but never got started. At that very moment, something hit his side of the car with the force of a charging Rumblehorn, sending him lurching sideways into Astrid, under normal circumstances he could have loved being this close to her, but then an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

"What's happening?" Astrid asked.

"I didn't know," said Hiccup.

Then they gasped, staring through the windscreen was a branch as thick as python smash into it. The tree they had hit was attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled bought were pummelling every inch of the car it could reach.

"Aaargh!" said Astrid, as another twisted limb then punched a large dent into her door; the windscreen was now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving in.

"Run for it!" Hiccup shouted.

Astrid then threw her full weight against her door, but the moment she stepped out she was knocked backwards into Hiccup's lap by a vicious upper cut from another branch.

"Da, da, da, we're dead," Hiccup moaned, as the ceiling sagged, but suddenly the floor of the car was vibrating—the engine had re-started.

"_Reverse!_" Astrid yelled, and the car shot backwards. The tree was still trying to hit them; they could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at them as they sped out of reach.

"That," panted Astrid, "Was close. Well done, car."

The car, however, had reached the end if its tether. With two smart clunks, the door flew open and Hiccup felt his seat tip sideways: next thing he knew he was sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told him that the car was ejecting their luggage from the boot; Sharpshot's cage flew through the air and burst open; he rose out of it with a loud, angry roar and sped off towards the mountain without a backwards look. Then, dented, scratched and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

"Come back!" Astrid yelled after it, brandishing her axe. "Dad's going to kill me!"

But the car disappeared from view with one last snort from its exhaust.

"We didn't have the best luck, do we?" said Hiccup, as Astrid bent down to pick up Scabbers the rat. "Of all the tress we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back."

He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still flailing its branches threateningly.

"Come one," said Astrid wearily, "we better get up to the academy…"

It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival they had pictured. Stiff, cold and bruised, they seized the ends of their trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, towards the great oak front doors.

"I think the feast's already started," said Astrid, dropping her trunk at the foot of the front steps and opened the door a crack quietly to look in the Great Hall. "Hey, Hiccup, come and look—it's the Sorting!"

Hiccup hurried over and together, he and Astrid peered in at the Great Hall.

Innumerable torches were hovering in mid-air over four long tables, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. At the foot of the tables were four large statues each one in different colours. Also there was a huge statue behind the High Table, where all the teachers sat. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling which always mirrored the sky outside sparkled with stars.

Through the first of Viking helmets, Hiccup saw a long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ripper was amongst them, easily visible because of his vivid Hofferson hair. Meanwhile, Phlegma the Fierce, an angry look Valkyrie her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Berk Sorting Helmet on a stool before the newcomers.

Every year, this aged old helmet, dented, cracked and dirty, sorted new students into four Berk houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin). Hiccup well remembered putting it on, exactly one year ago, and waited, petrified, for its decision as it muttered aloud in his ear. For a few horrible seconds he had feared that the hat was going to put him in Slytherin, the house which had turned out more evil Vikings and Valkyries than any other—but he had ended up in Gryffindor, along with Astrid and Ragnar and the rest of the Hoffersons. Last term, Hiccup and Astrid had helped Gryffindor win the House Championship, beating Slytherin for the first time in seven years.

A very small, dark-haired boy had been called forward to place the helmet on his head. Hiccup's eyes wandered past him to where Heyral the Wise, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard was shining brightly in the torchlight. Several seats along, Hiccup saw Flashburn the Flashmaster, dressed in aquamarine. And there at the end was Gobber the Belch, drinking from his icy goblet.

"Hang on…" Hiccup muttered to Astrid. "There's an empty chair at the staff table…Where's Grabbit?"

Grabbit the Grim was Hiccup's least favourite teacher. Hiccup also happened to Grabbit's least favourite student. Cruel, sarcastic and disliked by everyone except the students from his own house, (Slytherin), Grabbit taught Potions.

"Maybe he's ill!" said Astrid hopefully.

"Maybe he's _left_," said Hiccup, "because he missed out on the Combat Arts job _again!_"

"Or he might have been _sacked!_" said Astrid enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him."

At that moment Hiccup felt an uneasy feeling from behind him and once he looked at Astrid, who gave him the same look when they were nearly run over by the Berk Express.

"He's standing right behind us isn't he," said Hiccup.

They turned around and sure enough stood Grabbit, his dark cape rippling through the cold breeze. He was a thin muscular man with sallow skin, a hooked nose and greasy, shoulder-length black hair that was underneath a very grim looking helmet. At this moment he was smiling in a way that told Hiccup and Astrid were in very deep trouble.

"Follow me," said Grabbit.

Not daring even to look at each other, Hiccup and Astrid followed Grabbit back down to the village which was light by two huge touches in the plaza. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great Hall, but Grabbit led them away from the warmth and light, down a the stone staircase that led to a gloomy looking house.

"In!" he said, opening the door and pointing.

They entered Grabbit's house, shivering. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars, in which floated all manner of revolting things Hiccup didn't really want to know the name of at the moment. The fireplace was dark and empty. Grabbit closed the door and turned to look at them.

"So," he said softly, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Hiccup Haddock and his little girlfriend. Wanted to arrive with a _bang_, do we?"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Hiccup said.

"He's not by boyfriend!" Astrid said at the same time as Hiccup.

"Silence!" Grabbit said coldly.

"The barrier at King's Cross, it—"

"I said Silence!" Grabbit yelled. "What have you done with the car?"

Astrid looked uneasy. This wasn't the first time Grabbit had given Hiccup the impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, he understood, as Grabbit unrolled today's issue of the _Evening Prophet_.

"You were seen," he hissed, showing them the headline: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He began to read aloud. "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower… at noon in Norfolk, Mrs Halla Baylisson, while hanging out her washing… Mr Alf Flotson, of Peebles, reported to police… six or seven Muggles in all. I believe _your_ father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office?" He said, looking at Astrid and smiling still more nastily. "Dear, dear…his own daughter…"

Hiccup felt as though he'd just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's larger branches. If anyone found out Mr Hofferson had bewitched the car…he hadn't thought of that…

"I noticed, in my search, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow. Which was planted even before you were born," Grabbit went one.

"Personally I think that tree did more damage to _us_," Astrid muttered.

"_Silence!_" snapped Grabbit again. "I assure you that if you were in Slytherin and your fate rested with me, the _both_ of you would be on the train home, _tonight._ As it is—"

"They are not," said a calm voice behind them.

They turned around and saw that both Heyral the Wise and Phlegma the Fierce had just entered the room. Both of them were giving grave.

Grabbit then looked at them with a look of fury on his face.

"Headmaster, these two have broken the Decree of Under-age Magic, as such—"

"Before we _punishment_ them, Grabbit, I would like to hear there reason behind it," said Heyral calmly. "Also may I remind you that as head of Gryffindor house it is Phlegma to decide on their punishment?"

Astrid launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the station refusing to let them through. She explained everything except that her father owned the bewitched car, making it sound as though they had happened to find a flying car parked outside the station. Hiccup knew Heyral would see through this at once, but Heyral asked no questions about the car.

"…so we had no choice, we couldn't get on the train."

"Why didn't you send us a letter by Terrible Terror?" Phlegma asked, looking coldly to Hiccup. "I believe _you_ have a Terrible Terror."

"I-I didn't think—"

"That," said Phlegma, "is obvious."

"It was my entire fault, sir," said Astrid looking at Heyral, "Hiccup didn't have anything to do with it."

"No, I should have talked her out of it," said Hiccup quickly.

"No, you both had a hand at this," said Heyral. "Though, I do find your loyalty to one another quite refreshing."

"We'll go and get our stuff then," said Astrid in a hopeless sort of voice.

"What are you talking about?" Phlegma asked.

"Well, you're going to expel us, aren't you?" said Astrid in confusion.

Hiccup looked quickly at Heyral.

"Not today, Miss Hofferson," said Heyral. "But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also warn you if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

Grabbit looked as though Snoggletog had been cancelled. He cleared his throat and was about to speak, but Heyral cut across him.

"I must go back to the feast, Phlegma, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Grabbit, there's a delicious-looking-custard tart I want to sample,"

Grabbit shot a look of pure venom at Hiccup and Astrid as he allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Phlegma, who was still eying them like a hungry dragon.

Astrid looked nervously at Phlegma and said, "Ma'am, I wanted to watch my little brother being Sorted—"

"The Sorting Ceremony is over," said Phlegma. "Your younger brother is also in Gryffindor."

"Oh, good," said Astrid.

"And speaking of Gryffindor—" Phlegma said sharply, but Hiccup cut in: "Ma'am, when we took the car, term hadn't started, so—so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points taken from it, should it?" he finished, watching her anxiously.

Phlegma gave him a piercing look, but he was sure she had smiled. Her mouth didn't look as furious as it normally did.

"I will not take any points from Gryffindor," she said, and Hiccup's heart lightened considerably. "But you will both get a detention."

Hiccup expected as much. As for Heyral writing to the Dalssons, that was nothing. Hiccup knew perfectly well they'd just be disappointed that the Whomping Willow hadn't squashed him flat.

"But why did the barrier close on us, ma'am?" Astrid asked.

"I don't know, but we'll look in to it."

Phlegma brought out her axe and pointed it at Grabbit's desk. A large plate of snadiches, two silver goblets and a jug of cool yak milk appeared with a pop.

"You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory," she said. "I must also return to the feast."

When the door had closed behind her, both Hiccup and Astrid took a long sigh of relief.

"That was a close one," Hiccup said, grabbing a sandwich.

"No kidding," said Astrid, taking one too.

"Can you believe our luck, thought?" she said thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. "Double and Trouble must've flown that car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw _them_." she swallowed and tool another huge bite. "_Why_ couldn't we get through the barrier?"

Hiccup shrugged. "We'll have to watch our step from now on, though," he said, taking a grateful swing of yak milk. "Wish we could've gone up to the feast…"

"She didn't want us showing off," said Astrid sagely. "She didn't want people to think that it's cleaver, arriving by flying car."

When they had eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate kept re-filling itself) they rose and left the house, walked back into the mountain, treading the familiar path to the Gryffindor common room. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and stiff stone statues, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor common room was hidden, behind a painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she asked, as they approached.

"Uh—" said Hiccup.

They didn't know the new year's password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Ragnar dashing towards them.

"_There_ you are! Where have you _been?_" the most _ridiculous_ rumours—someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying _car_."

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Hiccup assured him.

"You're not saying that you _did_ fly a car all the way over here?" said Ragnar, giving them a stun look. "You two sure know how to make an entrance."

"We'll tell you all about it in the morning," said Astrid impatiently. "Right now we just want to sleep."

"The password is 'Deadly Nadder'," said Ragnar.

The portrait of the fat Valkyrie swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole Gryffindor house was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Hiccup and Astrid inside, leaving Ragnar to scramble in after them.

"Brilliant!" yelled Lock Jordson. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people will be talking about that one for years!"

"Good on you," said a fifth year Hiccup had never spoken to; someone was patting him on the back as though he'd just won a marathon. Double and Trouble pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, "Why could you've called is back, eh?"

Astrid was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Hiccup could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Sven was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling them off. Hiccup nudged Astrid in the ribs and nodded in Sven's direction. Astrid got the point at once.

"Got to get—upstairs—bit tired," she said, and the two of them started pushing their way towards the door on the other side of the room, with Ragnar following close behind, which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.

They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase. Astrid took the staircase opposite that led her to the girl's dormitories.

"Night!" she said to Sven, who was still scowling.

Hiccup and Ragnar hurried up the staircase that led them to the boy's dormitories, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying "second years". They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five wooden beds and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had been brought up for them and placed at the ends of their beds.

Hiccup looked at Ragnar uneasily.

"I know I shouldn't have enjoyed that or anything, but—"

The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor boys, Wartihog Brandir, Tuffnut Thorston and Fishlegs Ingerman.

"_Unbelievable!_" beamed Wartihog.

"Awesome!" Tuffnut yelled.

"Amazing," said Fishlegs, awestuck.

Hiccup couldn't help it. He grinned, too.


	6. Flashburn the Flashmaster

The next day, Hiccup barely grinned once. Things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy grey). Hiccup and Ragnar sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Astrid, who had her copy of _Dancing with Demons_ propped open against a milk jug.

"So, how was your welcome at the girl's dorm?" Hiccup asked, as he pulled a bowl of porridge towards him.

Astrid looked away from her book and looked at them.

"Well, Ruffnut thought it was awesome, Agatha Berdis was jealous, Maria Stonefoot was speechless and Sigrid Hideside thought I was crazy," said Astrid, as she counted the girl's names off her fingers.

"Bet no one had even done that before," Ragnar said, as took a bit of toast.

Then Fishlegs Ingerman joined them cheerfully. He was a husky boy with every skinny legs, he also got frightened by almost everything.

"Post's die any minute—I think Gran's sending on a few things I forgot."

Hiccup had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so Terrible Terrors streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy parcel bounced off Fishlegs's head and a second later, something large and grey fell into Ragnar's porridge bowl.

"I think I'll skip the porridge today," said Ragnar pushing the bowl away from him.

"_Errol!_" said Astrid, pulling bedraggled Terrible Terror out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and tried to one of them was a red envelope covered in porridge.

"I've been expecting this," she said.

"What? Him following into my porridge," said Ragnar.

"No—this," said Astrid removing the red envelope.

It looked quite ordinary to Hiccup, but Fishlegs was looking at it as though he expected it to explode.

"What's the matter?" Hiccup asked.

"Mum just sent me a Howler," Astrid groaned.

"And a Howler…is what?"

"Just be thankful you'll never get one," Astrid said bitterly.

"You'd better open it, Astrid," said Fishlegs, in a timed whisper. "My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and—" he gulped, "it was horrible."

Hiccup looked from his petrified faces to the red envelop, which was now starting to smoke around the corners.

"Brace ourselves," Astrid said.

Fishlegs stuffed his fingers in his ears. Hiccup was wondering why all this fuss around a letter. It wasn't until Astrid opened it that he got his answer. At first he thought it _had _exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"ASTRID HOFFERSON, WHO DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE…"

Mrs Hofferson's yelled, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall were swivelling around to see who had received the Howler and Astrid just sat there not moving an inch.

"…A LETTER FROM HEYRAL LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HICCUP COULD BOTH HAVE DIED…"

Hiccup had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. He tried very hard to look as though he couldn't hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb.

"…I'M ABSOLUTELY ASHAMED, YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN ENQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRIGHT BACK HOME."

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Astrid's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Hiccup looked stunned as though a tidal wave had just passed over him, but Astrid on the other hand looked completely unfazed. A few people laughed and gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

Ragnar looked at the ashy remains of the Howler and then back at Astrid.

"Well, that could have been worse," he said.

"Yeah, I deserved it," said Astrid, as she brushed the remains of the Howler away.

Hiccup didn't hungry anymore. His insides were burning with guilt. Mr Hofferson was facing an enquiry at work. After all Mr and Mrs Hofferson had done for him over the summer…

But he had no time to dwell on this; Phlegma the Fierce was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out timetables. Hiccup took his, and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar left the Grand Mountain together, crossed the vegetable patch and made for the farms, where the magical plants were kept.

As they neared the farms they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Flora the Botanist. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Flashburn the Flashmaster. Flora arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt, Hiccup spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branched now in slings.

Flora was a squat little Valkyrie who wore a helmet with branches sticking out instead of horns over her bake-brown hair; there was a large amount of earth on her clothes and on her gloves. Flashburn, however, was immaculate in cloths of turquoise, his golden hair shining under his shiny helmet.

"Oh, hello there!" Flashburn called, beaming around at the assembled students, "Just been showing Flora the right way to heal a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happened to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels…"

"Barn House Three, dears!" said Flora, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in Barn House One before—Barn House Three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Flora took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Hiccup caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer, mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was about to follow Astrid and Ragnar inside when Flashburn's hand shot out.

"Hiccup! I've been wanting a word—you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Flora?"

Judging by Flora's scowl, she did mind, but Flashburn said, "That's the ticket," and closed the barn house door in her face.

"Hiccup," said Flashburn, his white large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Hiccup, Hiccup, Hiccup."

Completely nonplussed, Hiccup said nothing.

"When I heard—well, of course, it was all my fault. I could have kicked myself."

Hiccup had no idea what he was talking about. He was about to say so when Flashburn went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Berk! Well, of, course; I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Hiccup, Hiccup, _Hiccup_."

It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when he wasn't talking.

"Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I?" said Flashburn. "Gave you the _bug_. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."

"Oh—no, sir, see—"

Hiccup, Hiccup, Hiccup," said Flashburn, reaching out a grasping his shoulder. "_I understand_. Natural to want a bit more once you've had first taste—and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head—but see here, young man, you can't start _flying cars_ to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for him; he's an internationally famous Viking already!" But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with the Dragon Lord!" he glanced at the lightning scar on Hiccup's forehead. "I know, I know, it's not quite as good as winning _Valkyrie Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have—but it's a _start_."

He gave Hiccup a hearty wink and strode off. Hiccup stood stunned for a few seconds. He did think it was possible, but he just found someone with a bigger ego than Snotlout Jorgenson. Then he remembered he was supposed to be in the barn house, he opened the door and slid inside.

Flora was standing behind a trestle bench in the centre of the barn house. About twenty pairs of different coloured earmuff were lying on the bench. When Hiccup had taken his place between Astrid and Ragnar, she said, "We'll be re-potting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Ton nobody's surprise, Ragnar's hand was first into the air.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Ragnar, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state." Flora smiled at him, but Ragnar continued. "But, it is also quite dangerous as the Mandrakes cry is fatal to anyone that hears it."

"Excellent. Twenty points to Gryffindor," said Flora. "Now as our Mandrakes are only seedlings there cries won't kill you yet, but they can knock you out for a couple of hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, I made sure there are plenty of earmuffs for everyone."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke and everyone shuffled forwards for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in colour, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Hiccup, who didn't have the slightest idea what Ragnar or Flora meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake.

"Everyone take a pair of ear-muffs," said Flora.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink or fluffy.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are _completely_ covered," said Flora. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs up. Right—earmuffs _on_."

Hiccup snapped the earmuffs over his ears. Flora then put a pair of pink fluffy earmuffs over her own ears and grasped one of the tufty plants firmly.

"First you grasp your Mandrake firmly and then you pull it sharp out of the pot!" Flora yelled, as she pulled hard.

Hiccup ley out a gasp of surprise for instead of roots, a small, muddy and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of its head. It was pale green, mottled skin and was clearly bawling at the top of its lungs.

"Then you dump it down in the other pot and pour a little bit of soil to keep it warm," said Flora, as she lifted some earth into the air by using her Earth Magic and placed it in the pot.

Then Fishlegs collapsed onto the floor.

"It would seem that Ingerman has neglected his earmuffs," Flora said, as she shook her head disappointedly.

"No, ma'am, he's just fainted," said Wartihog, looking at Fishlegs.

"Yes well, leave him there," said Flora. "Now four to a tray—there is a large supply of pots here—compost in the sacks over there—and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw it long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar were joined at their tray by a curly haired Hufflepuff boy, who was wearing a hat with cow horns on it, Hiccup knew by sight, but had never spoken to.

"Hardbottom Highhat," he said brightly, shaking Hiccup by the hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Hiccup Haddock… and you're Ragnar Keatson—always top in everything…" (Ragnar looked a little embarrassed as he had his hand shaken too) "and Astrid Hofferson. Wasn't that your flying car?"

Astrid looked as if she was about to punch him in the face. The Howler had obviously shaken her up more than she let on.

"That Flashburn's something, isn't he?" said Hardbottom happily, as they began filling their plants pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave man. Have you read his books? I have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone box by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and –bam-just _fantastic_."

"My name was down for Eton, you know, I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Flashburn's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained Viking in the family…"

After that they didn't have much chance to talk. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Flora had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked flailed their sharp little fists and gnashed their teeth; Hiccup spent ten minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.

By the end of the class, Hiccup like everyone else, was sweaty, aching and covered in earth. They traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.

Phlegma the Fierce's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Hiccup had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desk top avoiding his crystal eye.

Astrid was having far worse problems. She had patched up her crystal eye still had a massive crack running through it and not matter what she did she couldn't fix it, it would seem as if it had be damaged beyond repair. It kept out shot out sparks of lightning at odd moments, and every time Astrid tried to transfigure her beetle it engulfed him in thick grey smoke which smelled of rotten eggs.

"That crystal eye needs replacing, Miss Hofferson," said Phlegma, after blowing away the smoke.

Soon the lunch bell ran and Hiccup was relieved. His brain felt like a wrung sponge.

"She's right you know," said Hiccup as they made their way down to lunch.

"I can't right home and ask for one," said Astrid, as she placed the cracked crystal eye back onto her axe. "Mum would send another Howler."

When they finally reached down to lunch, Astrid's mood was not improved by Ragnar showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons he had produced in Transfiguration.

"What've we got this afternoon?" Hiccup asked, hastily changing the subject.

For some reason this cheered Astrid up a lot.

"Combat Arts," said Astrid at once.

"_Why_," said Ragnar in amused voice, as he looked at her timetable, "have you outlined all Flashburn's lessons in little hearts?"

Astrid snatched the timetable back, flushing furiously.

"I just think he's a skilled warrior," said Astrid.

"Well, we'll see how _skilled _he is this afternoon," said Hiccup, feeling slightly jealous.

They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Astrid sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in _Dancing with Demons_ again. Hiccup and Ragnar stood talking about dragons for several minutes before Hiccup became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw the very small, dark-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Helmet last night, staring at Hiccup as though transfixed. In Hiccup's mind he looked like a mini Snotlout, but he was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera and the moment Hiccup looked at him, he went bright red.

"All right, Hiccup? I'm—I'm Gustav Larson," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. Do you think—would it be all right if—can I have a picture?" he asked, raising the camera hopefully.

"A picture?" Hiccup repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you," said Gustav eagerly, edging further forwards. "I know all about you. Everyone told me. About how you survived when the Dragon Lord tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead," (his eyes raked Hiccup's hairline) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right position, the pictures will _move_." Gustav drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's _brilliant_ here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic everyone thought I was crazy."

"Yeah, imagine that," said Astrid, who put her book down to watch the show in front of her.

"Anyway, my dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it's be really good if I had one of you—" he looked imploringly at Hiccup, "—maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could sign it?"

"_Signed photo?_ You're giving out _signed photos_, Useless?"

Loud and scathing, Snotlout Jorgenson echoed around the courtyard. He stopped right behind Gustav, flanked, as he always was at Berk, by his large and thuggish cronies, Dogsbreath and Clueless.

"Everyone queue up!" Snotlout roared to the crows. "Hiccup the Useless is giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Hiccup angrily, his fists clenching.

"You're just jealous," piped up Gustav, whose entire body was about as think as Dogsbreath's neck.

"_Jealous?_" said Snotlout, who didn't need to shout anymore; half the courtyard was listening in. "Of what? He's weak and scrawny, he no proper Viking. I on the other hand am a perfect example of a Viking. If you want to take some real pictures, photograph me, kid."

"Leave him alone," said Astrid, storming up to him.

"Oh, baba," said Snotlout smiling. "I didn't know you were here or I'd chase these losers away. Shame you didn't go with me on the train then your family won't have reached an all-time low."

Astrid was about to punch him, but Ragnar grabbed her hand and whispered, "Heads up."

"What's all this, what's all this?" Flashburn was striding towards them, his turquoise cape swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

Hiccup started to speak but he was cut short as Flashburn flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Hiccup!"

Pinned to Flashburn's side and burning with humiliation, Hiccup saw Snotlout slide glaring back into the crowd.

"Come on then, young Gustav," said Flashburn, beaming at Gustav. "A double portrait, can't say fairer than that, and we'll _both_ sign it for you."

Gustav fumbled for his camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signalling the start of afternoon classes.

"Off you go, move along there," Flashburn called to the crowd, and he set off to the arena with Hiccup, who was wishing he knew a good vanishing spell, still clasped to his side.

"A word to the wise, Hiccup," said Flashburn paternally as they walked down to the arena. "I covered up for you back there with young Gustav—if he was photographing me, too, your academy friends won't think you're setting yourself up so much…"

Deaf to Hiccup stammers, Flashburn swept him down the pathway that lead to the arena lined with staring students.

"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible—looks a tad big-headed, Hiccup, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but—" he gave a little chortle, "I don't think you're quite there yet."

They had reached the arena and he let Hiccup go at last. Hiccup yanked his fur vest straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he buised himself with piling all seven of Flashburn's books in front of him, so that he could avoid looking at the real thing.

The rest of the class came clattering in and Astrid and Ragnar sat down either side of Hiccup.

"I'm impressed that you're able to keep your cool, Hiccup," said Ragnar.

"I do hope the Gustav doesn't start talking to Ripper, they'll be starting at Hiccup Haddock fan club," said Astrid.

"Don't mention a 'Hiccup Haddock fan club' in front of Flashburn, please," said Hiccup.

When the whole class was seated, Flashburn cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Fishlegs' copy of _Travels with Trolls_ and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well, "Flashburn the Flashmaster, Order of Haddock, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of _Valkyrie Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award—but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon dark-elf by smiling at him!"

He then smiled at the class, Hiccup and Ragnar exchanged looks.

"Could have fooled me," Ragnar muttered and Hiccup nodded in agreement.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books—well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about—just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in…"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Starting—_now!_"

Hiccup looked down at his paper and read:

_1. What is Flashburn the Flashmaster's favourite colour?_

_2. What is Flashburn the Flahmaster's secret ambition?_

_3. What, in your opinion, is Flashburn the Flashmaster's greatest achievement to date?_

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

_54. When is Flashburn the Flashmaster birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

Half an hour later, Flashburn collected in the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut—hardly any of you remember that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in _Fighting with a Frost-giant_. And a few of you need to read _Weekend with a Werewolf_ more carefully—I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples—though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

He gave another roguish wink. Ragnar was now staring at Flashburn with an expression of disbelief on his face; Wartihog and Tuffnut, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Astrid, on the other hand, was listening to Flashburn with rapt attention, and gave a start when he mentioned her name.

"…but Miss Astrid Hofferson knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions—good girl! In fact—" he flipped her paper over, "full marks! Where is Miss Astrid Hofferson?"

Astrid raised her hand excitedly.

"Excellent!" beamed Flashburn, "quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, to business…"

He then walked up to cages that were on the other side of the arena.

"Now—be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to Vikingkind! Now I'm supposed to teach you how to tame your first dragon, but that is not as easy as you think. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

In spite of himself, Hiccup leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Flashburn placed his hand on a leaver next to the cage. Wartihog and Tuffnut had stopped laughing now. Fishlegs was cowering in his front row seat.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Flashburn in a low voice. "It might provoke it."

As the whole class held its breath, Flashburn pulled on the leaver and the cage began to open slowly.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Behold the Deadly Nadder."

A Deadly Nadder walked out and Hiccup recognised it at once. It was the same Deadly Nadder he saw last year when he first met Toothless. The Deadly Nadder was beautiful, with its blue and yellow scales.

Hiccup saw Astrid looking excited; he knew that Deadly Nadder's had been the Hofferson's choice of dragon of years.

"Now I'll show you how to calm this Nadder, because I myself ride a Deadly Nadder too," said Flashburn winking again at the class.

He then placed his hand on the Deadly Nadder's snort and almost at once the Deadly Nadder went crazy. It started shooting spikes out of its tail and firing a stream of fire in all directions. Sharp spikes got stuck in the wall and wooden crates were set on fire. Fishlegs got hit by its flames and began running around trying to any nearby water. The Thorston twins looked at it with wonder loving the fact that the Deadly Nadder was destroying everything in its path. Most of the class hide under their desks and Fishlegs had finally found tough full of water and relaxed as stream exited it.

"No need to pain, I have it all under control," Flashburn said and pulled out his sword. "A little bit of lightning magic will calm it down.

He swung his sword and fired a bolt of lightning at the Deadly Nadder. However, this only annoyed it even more and fired several spikes at him. Flashburn gulped and dived under a desk, narrowly avoiding the spikes.

The bell ran and there was a mad rush towards the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Flashburn straightened up, caught sight of Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar, who were almost at the door, and said, "Well, I'll ask you three to deal with it then." He swept past them and shut the gate behind him.

"Can you _believe_ him?" roared Ragnar, as he ducked to avoid getting hit by one of the Deadly Nadder's spikes.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Astrid, as she somersaulted over the desks.

"_Hand on?_" said Hiccup, who was using his fire magic to protect them from the Deadly Nadder's flames. "Astrid, he didn't have a clue what he was doing."

"That's ridicule," said Astrid. "You've read his books—look at all those great things he's done…"

"He _says_ he's done," Ragnar muttered.

"How about we try calming her down," said Astrid gesturing to the Deadly Nadder.

"_Her!_" Hiccup and Ragnar said together.

"Of course it's her," said Astrid rolling her eyes. "If only I had a way of calming her down I'd be able to bond with her."

"Here," said Hiccup, giving her some grass. "I was saving this Dragon Nip for Toothless, but I think its need more here."

Astrid nodded and grabbed the Dragon Nip. She slowly walked over to the Deadly Nadder holding it out to her. Almost at once the Deadly Nadder stopped what she was doing and walked over to Astrid.

"Here you go, girl," said Astrid slowly. "You can have all the Dragon Nip you want."

The Deadly Nadder looked at Astrid and then at the Dragon Nip. She gave Astrid a big lick and quickly ate the Dragon Nip she was holding in her hands. She then collapsed in a dreamy daze.

"I think I'll call you Stormfly," Astrid said placing a hand on Stormfly's snout


	7. Mudbloods and Murmurs

Hiccup spent a lot of time the next few days dodging out of sight whenever he saw Flashburn the Flashmaster coming down a corridor. Harder to avoid Gustav Larson, who seemed to have memorised Hiccup's timetable. Nothing seemed to give Gustav a bigger thrill than to say, "All right, Hiccup?" six or seven times a day and hear, "Hello, Gustav", back, however exasperated Hiccup sounded when he said it.

Sharpshot was still angry with Hiccup about the disastrous car journey and Astrid's crystal eye was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting a jolt of lightning and hitting tiny old Flitwick the Charmer making experience violent shocks every so often. So with one thing and another, Hiccup was quite glad to reach the weekend. He, Astrid and Ragnar were planning to visit Gobber on Saturday morning. Hiccup, however, was shaken awake, several hours earlier than he would have liked, by Eret Eretson, Captain of the Gryffindor Dragon Racing team.

"Whassamatter?" Hiccup groggily.

"Dragon Racing practice!" said Eret. "Come one!"

Hiccup squinted at the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink and gold sky. Now he was awake, he couldn't understand how he could have slept through the racket the birds were making.

"Eret," Hiccup croaked. "It's the crack of dawn."

"Exactly," said Eret. He was tall and burly sixth year and at the moment, his eyes were gleaming with mad enthusiasm. "It's part of our new training programme. Come on, grab your saddle and let's go," said Eret heartily. "None of the other teams have started training yet, we're going to be first off the mark this year…"

Yawning and shivering slightly, Hiccup climbed out of bed and tried to find his cloths.

"Good man," said Eret. "Meet you on the pitch in fifteen minutes."

When he'd found his clothing and pulled on his fur vest for warmth, Hiccup scribbled a note to Ragnar explaining where he'd gone and went down the spiral staircase to the common room, his Nimbus Two Thousand under his arms. He had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind him and Gustav Larson came dashing down the spiral staircase, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something clutched in his hand.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Hiccup! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed; I wanted to show you—"

Hiccup looked bemusedly at the photograph Gustav was brandishing under his nose.

A moving, black and white Flashburn was tugging hard on an arm Hiccup recognised as his own. He was pleased to see that his photographic self was putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As Hiccup watched, Flashburn gave up and slumped, panting, against the white edge of the picture.

"Will you sign it?" said Gustav eagerly.

"No," said Hiccup flatly glancing around to check that the room was really deserted. "Sorry, Gustav, I'm in a hurry—Dragon Racing practice."

He climbed through the portrait hole.

"Oh, wow!" Wait for me! I've never watched a Dragon Racing game before!"

Gustav scrambled through the hole after him.

"Sure, why not," Hiccup said in a sarcastic tone. However, the sarcasm was wasted on Gustav, who looked at Hiccup excitedly.

"You were the youngest house player in a hundred years, weren't you, Hiccup? Weren't you?" said Gustav, trotting alongside him. "One of the boys in my dorm told me that and that you ride on a Night Fury."

"Was his name Ripper Hofferson?" Hiccup asked,

"How did you guess?" Gustav said, staring at Hiccup.

"I'm psychic," said Hiccup.

"Anyway, you must be brilliant. I've never flown on a dragon before. Is it easy? Is that your own saddle? Is that the best one there is?"

Hiccup had no idea on how to get rid of him. It was like having an extremely talkative shadow.

"I don't really understand Dragon Racing," said Gustav breathlessly. "Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly round trying to knock people off their brooms?"

"Yes," said Hiccup heavily, resigned to explaining the complicated rules of Dragon Racing. "They're called Bludgers. There are two Beaters on each team who catty clubs to beat the Bludgers away from their side. Double and Trouble Hofferson are the Gryffindor Beaters."

And what are the other balls for?" Gustav asked, tripping down a couple of steps because he was gazing open-mouthed at Hiccup.

"Well, the Quaffle—that's the biggish white one—is the one that scores goals. At the start of the game it multiplies and flies' around the pitch. Three Chasers on each team grab anyone of the Quaffles and try and get it through the basket at the end of the pitch."

"And the fourth ball—"

"—is the Dark Snitch," said Hiccup, "and it's very small, very fast and difficult to catch. But that's what the Seeker's got to do, because a game of Dragon Racing doesn't end until the Snitch has been caught. And whichever the team's Seeker gets the Snitch earns his team an extra hundred and fifty points."

"And you're the Gryffindor Seeker, aren't you?" said Gustav in awe.

"Yes," said Hiccup, as they left the mountain and started across the dew drenched grass. "And there's a Keeper, too. He guards the basket. Also all the players, apart from the Beaters and the Keeper, are allowed to bring weapons only and use magic. And if any of the players falls into the water their out of the game. That's it, really."

But Gustav didn't stop questioning Hiccup all the way down the sloping law to the Dragon Stables. He only stopped when Hiccup opened the stable doors and got rammed by something big and black. It was Toothless and he began to lick Hiccup furiously.

"Aw, stop, stop, stop!" Hiccup yelled, as he tried to free himself from Toothless. It didn't help that Gustav began taking pictures of Toothless licking him.

Finally Hiccup managed to get up and to pet him and said, "I miss you too, bud."

Toothless was an average sized dragon with black scales. However, unlike any other dragon, Toothless had large wings and retractable teeth. He was also the fastest dragon on Berk no matter what kind of saddle he wore.

After Gustav stopped geeking out about Toothless, both he and Hiccup climbed onto Toothless' back and flew over to the Dragon Racing pitch. Once they got their Gustav hopped off of Toothless and said, "I'll go and get a good seat, Hiccup!" and hurried off to the stands.

The rest of the Gryffindor team were standing on a floating platform over the freezing cold water. Eret seemed to be the only one, apart from the dragons, who looked truly awake. Double and Trouble Hofferson were sitting, puffy-eyes and tousle-haired on their dragons. Fourth year Alfhild Spinson was laying on her Thunderdrum, Boom. Her fellow Chasers, Kari Bellson and Ase Jerkson, were yawning side by side opposite them.

"There you are, Hiccup, what kept you?" said Eret briskly. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto started, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training programme, which I really think will make all the difference…"

Eret was holding up a large diagram of a Dragon Racing pitch, on which were drawn many lines, arrows and crosses in different coloured inks. He took out his swords, tapped the board and the arrows began to wiggle over the diagram like caterpillars. Hiccup had to say, Eret's water magic was impressive he didn't think that even when the ink was dry that it could move like water.

As Eret launched into a speech about his new tactics, Double Hofferson's head laid upon Boom next to Alfhild Spinson's shoulder and he began to snore.

The first board took nearly twenty minutes to explain, but there was another board under that, and a third under that one. Hiccup lay on Toothless' back as Eret droned on and on.

"So," said Eret, at last, jerking Hiccup from a wistful fantasy about great he could be eating for breakfast as this very moment up in the Great Hall, "is that clear? Any questions?"

"I've got one, Eret," said Trouble, who had woken with a start. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"

Eret wasn't pleased.

"Now, listen here, you lot," he said, glowering at them all, "We should have won the Dragon Racing cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately, owing to circumstances beyond our control…"

Hiccup shifted guiltily on Toothless. He had been unconscious in the Healing Centre for the final match of the previous year, meaning that Gryffindor had been a player short and had suffered their worst defeat in three hundred years.

Eret took a moment to regain control of himself. Their last defeat was clearly still torturing him.

"So this year, we train harder than ever before… okay, let's go and put our new theories into practise!" Eret shouted, hopping onto his Rumblehorn, Skullcrusher and took off into the air. Stiff-legged and still yawning, his team followed.

Eret had been talking for so long that the sun was up properly now, although remnants of mist hung over the lake. As Hiccup took off, he saw Astrid and Ragnar sitting in the stands. Also sitting behind them, grooming her scales was Stormfly.

"Aren't you finished yet?" called Astrid incredulously.

"We haven't even started," said Hiccup, looking jealously at the toast and marmalade Astrid and Ragnar had brought out of the Great Hall. "Eret's been teaching us new moves."

As they flew around, the cool morning air whipped his face, waking him far more effectively than Eret's long talk. It felt wonderful to be back on the Dragon Racing pitch. Toothless soared right around the stadium at full speed, racing Double and Trouble.

"What's that funny clicking noise?" called Double, as they hurtled around the corner.

Hiccup looked into the stands. Gustav was sitting in one of the highest seats, his camera raised, taking picture after picture, the sound strangely magnified in the deserted stadium.

"Look this way, Hiccup!" This way!" he cried shrilly.

"Who's that?" said Double.

"That's Gustav Larson. He's a fan of mine, but instead of being shy like Ripper, he excited like a kid at Snoggletog," said Hiccup, he and Toothless then flew away as far away from Gustav as possible.

"What's going on?" said Eret, frowning, as he flew towards them. "Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training programme."

"He's in Gryffindor," said Hiccup. "He came with me and he's a hard person to shake off."

"And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Eret," said Trouble.

"What make you say that?" said Eret testily.

"Because they're here in person," said Trouble, pointing.

Several people on vicious looking dragons flew onto the pitch.

"I don't believe it!" Eret hissed in outrage. "I booked the pitch for today! We'll see about this!"

Eret flew over to them and Skullcrusher roared angrily, sharing his rides thought. Hiccup, Double and Trouble followed.

"Dagur!" Eret bellowed at the Slytherin Captain, "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Dagur Owson was riding a Skrill he called Deathwing, who kept sparking electricity every so often. They were both the same height, but Dagur was crazy and he replied, "Plenty of room for all of is, Eret."

Ase, Alfhild and Kari had flew over, too. There were on girls on the Slytherin team, but that didn't stop them flying close together, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.

"But I booked the pitch!" said Eret, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Dagur, "But I've got a specially signed note here from Grabbit. _I, Grabbit the Grim, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Dragon Racing pitch owing to the need to train their new Seeker._"

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Eret, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his arrogant face. It was Snotlout Jorgenson riding on a reddish orange Monstrous Nightmare, the same one Hiccup saw last year.

"What? Did you think you're the only best player in the word, Useless" said Snotlout smugly. "Well, me and my boy Hookfang are going to leave you in the dust.

"Aren't you Spitelout the Stern's son?" said Double, looking at Snotlout with dislike.

"Funny you mention Snotlout's father," said Dagur, as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Haven't you noticed the generous gift he'd made to the Slytherin team."

That's when Hiccup noticed that they were riding on highly polished, brand new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words "Nimbus Two Thousand and One" gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Dagur carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount, even if the rider is riding a Night Fury. As for the old Cleansweeps," he smiled nastily at Double and Trouble who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives, "Make them look as if there used for houses."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Snotlout was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh look," said Dagur, "A pitch invasion."

Astrid and Ragnar were flying up to them on Stormfly to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Astrid asked Hiccup. "Why aren't you playing? And what's _he_ going here?"

She was looking at Snotlout, who winked at her and smiled.

"Oh, hey baba, I'm the new Slytherin Seeker," said Snotlout, smugly. "You know if you go out with me I could get you a saddle just like the ones were riding on."

Astrid and Ragnar noticed for the first time what they were riding seven superb saddles.

"Good, aren't they, baba," said Snotlout smoothly. "It a shame that your family can't afford the best money can buy."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," said Ragnar smiling. "_They_ got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Snotlout's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Hiccup knew at once that Snotlout had insulted Ragnar, because there was an instant uproar at his words. Dagur had to push Snotlout out of the way to avoid getting hit Double and Trouble Deadly Nadders, Spike and Strike, spine shots. Alfhild shrieked, "_How dare you!_" and Astrid pulled out her axe yelling, "You'll pay for that one!" and pointed it furiously at Snotlout's face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and sudden jolt of lightning shot out of the handle of Astrid's axe. She would have fallen into the freezing water if Ragnar hadn't caught her.

"Astrid! Astrid! Are you all right?" Hiccup yelled.

Astrid looked at him, but didn't speak. Instead she felt a nasty jolt of electricity running through her body.

The Slytherin team were paralysed with laughter. Dagur was laughing like a madman grabbing hold of his saddle for support. Snotlout was banging his fist on Hookfang, who then decide to ignite. Snotlout was next seen falling straight into the freezing cold water below with his trousers on fire. The Gryffindors flew over to Astrid, who kept experiencing violent electric shocks. Nobody seemed to want to touch her apart from Ragnar, who was wearing leather gloves.

"We'd better get her to Gobber's, it's nearest," said Hiccup to Ragnar, who nodded bravely, and the pair flew on their dragons towards Gobber's.

As they flew over the stands Gustav looked up at them.

"What happened, Hiccup? What happened? Is that your girlfriend? Where are you taking her?" Gustav asked, as he ran to across the stands to talk to them. Astrid looked as if she wanted to punch Gustav, but then experience another violent electric shock.

"Oooh," said Gustav, fascinated and raising his camera, "Can you hold her still, Hiccup?"

"No!" said Astrid angrily, who seemed to have managed to regain the ability to speak.

They flew back towards Berk and landed once they reached the small village. They then saw Gobber's forge coming into view.

"Nearly there, Astrid," said Ragnar, as they got close to the forge, "You'll be all right in a minute… almost there…"

They were within twenty feet of Gobber's forge when someone walked out of, it wasn't Gobber who emerged. It was Flashburn the Flashmaster, wearing clothing of palest mauve today, who came striding out.

"Quick, behind here," Hiccup hissed, as he pushed the dragons behind a nearby house.

Ragnar dragged Astrid behind the house as well. Astrid seemed somewhat reluctantly, but followed their lead.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're going!" Flashburn said loudly to Gobber. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book—I'm surprised you haven't already got one. I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!" And he strode away towards the mountain.

Hiccup waited until Flashburn was out of sight, then pulled Astrid out from behind the house and up to Gobber's forge. They walked inside and as soon as they did they meant a very grumpy Gobber, but his expression brightened when saw who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd some ter see me—come in, come in—thought you mighta bin Flashburn back again."

Ragnar placed Astrid in a chair in the forge, where they saw tools of all kinds and the forge burning away. Hiccup saw the photo of five young Vikings he saw last year, this time he recognised the big beefy one that was his father, Stoick the Vast, after seeing him in both the Mirror of Erised and the photo album Gobber gave to him last year. He could tell which one was Gobber as once, since he was the biggest out of all them. The other he didn't know, one was just as big and beefy as his father; the other two were the smallest and skinniest of the group.

He then remembered Astrid and gave Gobber a quick expansion about what happened.

"Don't worry it'll pass in a few hours, just make sure not to get near any water," said Gobber.

"Yeah, lightning magic isn't easy to use at the best of times," said Ragnar, as Astrid gave out another violent shock. "Especially with a cracked crystal eye."

Gobber was bustling around making them coffee. His Hotburple, Grump was sleeping opposite of the forge which had now gone out.

"Grump! You lazy sausage! The fire's gone out!" Gobber yelled.

Grump moved his head so it was pointing at the forge and fired a lava blast. The blast reignited the fire, but it all set most of the wood furniture a light. Gobber had to use his ice magic to create a cold breeze to put it out.

"What did Flashburn want with you, Gobber?" Hiccup asked, as he rubbed Toothless' head.

"Givin' me advice on how to forge a sword," growled Gobber, moving a large piece of iron off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some Dark-elf he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my hook."

It was most unlike Gobber to criticize a Berk teacher and Hiccup looked at him in surpised. Astrid, however, said in angrily voice, "I think you're being ridicules. Heyral obviously thought he was the best man for the job—"

"He's was the _on'y_ man for the job," said Gobber, offering them a plate of treacle fudge. "An' I mean the _on'y_ one. Getting' very difficult ter find anyone ter the Combat Art job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think the jobs cursed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. But getting' Flashburn ter take the job, we're really scraping the bottom of the barrel."

"Wait, you mean you know him?" said Hiccup looking at Gobber in surprise.

"Yeah, he came to Berk a few years under your dad," said Gobber shaking his head. "Mind yeh, I was already expelled when he showed up, but he was an idiot."

Hiccup knew Gobber was expelled in his third year for some unknown reason. Hiccup never found out, because Gobber would clear his throat loudly and become deaf until the subject was changed. He was also not allowed to use magic, but like most Vikings he never followed the rules. Hiccup had reason to believe that Gobber had placed the fragment remains of his crystal eye in his icy prosthetic that cloud change at will for any need.

"He once begged Heyral ter start an academy newspaper just so he could see his own name in printed on it. Heyral saw through this of course and dismissed the idea."

"So, he was full of himself back then," said Ragnar rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, how that man become such a famous Viking is beyond me, so tell me," said Gobber, jerking his head at Astrid, "Who was she tryin' ter blast anyway?"

"Snotlout called Ragnar something. It must've been really bad, because everyone went mad." said Hiccup.

"It w_as_ bab," said Astrid, just after she recovered from her last shock." Snotlout called him "Mudblood", Gobber—"

Astrid stopped when she got hit by another jolt of electricity. Gobber looked outraged.

"He didn't!" he growled at Ragnar.

"He did," he said. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude…"

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," said Astrid, clenching her teeth in pain. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who was Muggle-born—you know non-magic parents. There are some Vikings—like the Jorgenson clan—who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." She then experienced another jolt of electricity through her body. After she recovered, "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Fishlegs—he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"An' they haven't shown anything can't stump our Ragnar," said Gobber proudly, making Ragnar turn pink.

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Astrid, who hands were still shaking from all the shocks she experienced. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's stupid. Most Vikings these days are half-blood anyway, if we hadn't married Muggles we'd have died out."

She panted hard trying to rest after all electric shocks she had to deal with.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter blast him, Astrid," said Gobber loudly over the sounds of Astrid's shocks. "Bu' maybe it was good thing yer crystal eye to backfire. 'Spect Spitelout the Stern would've come marchin' up ter the academy if yeh'd blast his son, even if his son has got his eye one yeh. Least yer not in trouble."

Hiccup would have pointed out that trouble didn't come much worse than having getting shocked by your own attack, but he couldn't: Gobber's treacle fudge had cemented his jaws together.

"Hiccup," said Gobber suddenly, as though struck by a sudden thought, "gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

That comment gave Hiccup the strength to wrench his teeth apart.

"I have _not_ been giving out signed photos," he said, now getting annoyed. "If Flashburn's still putting that about—"

But then he saw that Gobber was laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting Hiccup genially on the back and sending him face first into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Flashburn yeh didn't need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that," said Hiccup, sitting up and rubbing his chin.

"Don' think he did," said Gobber, his eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go." Gobber then noticed Stormfly. "I see you're got yourself a Deadly Nadder, Astrid."

"Yeah, her name id Stormfly," said Astrid weakly.

"She's decently a thing of beauty," said Gobber.

Stormfly seemed to have liked that comment, because she stood up proudly.

Hiccup then looked at the photo again.

"Uh, Gobber who are those other boys in the picture with you and my dad?" Hiccup asked.

Gobber looked uneasily at the photo.

"I don't like to talk about," said Gobber, sadly look at the beefy boy next to his father and short weak looking one. "Alvin and Savage are dead. As for Johann," he said pointing at the shabby looking one, "I don't hear much, he spends most of his time traveling from place ter place, never stays in one place to often."

"Why's that?" Ragnar asked.

"He finds it difficult to fit in with people," said Gobber. He then turned too looked at Astrid. "Oh, Astrid yer little brother came round yesterday." Gobber looked sideways at Hiccup. "Said he wanted to explore the places, but I reckon he was hopin' to bump into someone at my house." He found it hard to keep a straight face. "If yeh ask me, _he_ wouldn't say no ter a signed—"

"Well no one asked you," said Hiccup annoyed.

Astrid giggled, but then another jolt of electricity passed through her.

"I would laugh if I her yeh, Astrid," said Gobber, who was still smiling. "I think he hopes that you and Hiccup get married."

If Astrid wasn't getting hit by random jolt of electricity, she probably would have punched Gobber. Hiccup on the other hand felt embarrassed.

It was nearly lunchtime and as Hiccup had one bit of treacle fudge since dawn, he keen to go back to the Great Hall to eat. They said goodbye to Gobber and after taking Toothless and Stormfly back to the stables, they walked back up to the mountain, Astrid kept experiencing electric shock, but they were as powerful as they were before.

"They had barely set a foot in the cool Great Hall when a voice rang out. "There you are, Haddock and Miss Hofferson." Phlegma the Fierce was walking towards them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What are we going ma'am?" Astrid asked, clenching her fists.

"_You_ will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mildew," said Phlegma.

Astrid groaned. Mildew the Unpleasant, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the academy.

"And you, Haddock, will be helping Flashburn answering his fan mail," said Phlegma.

"Oh no—can't I go and do the trophy room too?" said Hiccup desperately.

"Or we could which," said Astrid hopefully.

"Certainly not," said Phlegma, raising her eyebrows. "Flashburn requested you particular, Haddock. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

Hiccup and Astrid slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom. Ragnar was giving them a sympathetic look. Hiccup didn't fancy his shepherd's pie as much as he'd thought. Both he and Astrid felt they'd got the worse deal.

"Mildew will have me there all night," said Astrid heavily. "There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap any time," said Hiccup hollowly. "I've had loads of practice with the Dalssons. Answering Flashburn's fan mail… he'll be a nightmare…"

"I think your being a bit hard on him," said Astrid.

"I think he's not being hard enough," said Ragnar taking a bit out of his ham sandwich, ignoring Astrid's glare.

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Hiccup was dragging his feet outside to Flashburn's house. He gritted his teeth and knocked.

The door flew open at once. Flashburn beamed down at him.

"Ah, here's the scallywag!" he said. "Come in, Hiccup, come in."

Shining brightly on the walls by lights of many candles were countless framed photographs of Flashburn. He had even signed a few of them. Another pile lay on his desk.

"You can address the envelops!" Flashburn told Hiccup, as though this was a huge treat. "Tell me Hiccup, can you possibly imagine a better way to sever detention by helping me answer my fan mail?"

"Not really," said Hiccup bitterly, as he picked up a quill.

"Fame is a fickle friend, Hiccup," said Flashburn, as he began to write. "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that."

"I'll try to."

The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over many faces of Flashburn watching him. Hiccup moved his aching hand over what felt like the thousandth envelope. It must be nearly time to leave, Hiccup thought miserably; please let it be nearly time…"

"And then he heard something—something quite apart from the spitting of dying candles and Flashburn's prattle about his fans.

It was a voice to chill the bone-marrow, a voice of breath-taking, ice-cold venom.

"_Come… come to me… let me rip you… let me tear you… let me kill you…_"

Hiccup gave a huge jump and a large lilac blot appeared on the photo he was signing.

"_What?_" he said loudly.

"I know!" said Flashburn. "Six solid months at the top of the bestseller list! Broke all records!"

"No," said Hiccup frantically. "That voice!"

"Sorry?" said Flashburn, looking puzzled, "What voice?"

"That—that voice that said—didn't you hear it?"

Flashburn was looking at Hiccup in high astonishment.

"What _are_ you talking about, Hiccup? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? By Thor's hammer—no wonder—look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! It spooky how time fly's when you're having fun."

"Yeah, spooky," said Hiccup, looking around for the source of the voice, but found nothing.

It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Hiccup went straight up the dormitory. He found Ragnar lying on his bed reading a book.

"How were things with Flashburn?" Ragnar asked, lowering his book.

As he got his pyjamas on, Hiccup explained the weird voice he heard being careful not to wake Fishlegs, Tuffnut and Wartihog.

"And Flashburn said he couldn't hear it?" said Ragnar, as Hiccup got into his bed. "I don't get it—even someone invisible would've had to open the door.

"I know," said Hiccup, staring at the ceiling. "I don't get it either."


	8. The Deathday Party

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the mountain. Flora the Botanist was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterwards. Ripper Hofferson, who had been looking peaky, was bullied into taking some by Sven. The steam pouring from his vivid hair gave the impression that his head was on fire.

Thor must have been angry at someone at Berk, because raindrops the size of billets thundered on the mountains so hard it sounded from the inside like a battle was going on outside. It rained for days; the lake rose, the flowerbeds turned into muddy streams and Gobber's forge was out of business until the rain stopped. Eret enthusiasm for regular training sessions, however, was not dampened despite the fact the lake was practically cover the stadium, which was what Hiccup was to find, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Hallowe'en, returning to Gryffindor tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.

Even aside from Thor's bad mood it hadn't been a happy practice session. Double and Trouble, who had been spying on the Slytherin team, had seen for themselves the speed of the new Nimbus Two Thousand and One saddles were giving their dragons. They reported that the Slytherin team looked as though they were riding Night Furies themselves.

As Hiccup squelched along the deserted corridor he came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as he was. Nearly Headless Njal, the Gryffindor house ghost, was muttering under his breath, "…don't fulfil their requirements… half an inch, if that…"

"Hello, Njal," said Hiccup.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Njal, starting and looking round. He wore a dashing helmet on his long curly hair, and a tunic with a long neck, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed. He was pale as smoke, and Hiccup could see right through him to the dark corridor ahead.

"You look troubled, young Hiccup," said Njal, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking inside his vest pocket.

"So do you," said Hiccup.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Njal waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance… it's not as though I really wanted to join… though I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfil requirements'."

In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"Oh—yes?" said Hiccup, who was obviously supposed to agree.

"I mean, nobody wished more than I do that my end would have been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However…"

Nearly Headless Njal shook his letter open and read furiously, "_We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Dragonback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfil our requirements. With very best wishes, Podmore the Headless._"

Fuming, Nearly Headless Njal stuffed the letter away.

"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Hiccup! Most people would think that's good and behead, but oh no, it's not enough for the proud Podmore the Headless."

Nearly Headless Njal took several deep breaths and then said, in a far calmer tone, "So—what's bothering you? Anything I can do?"

"No," said Hiccup. "Not unless you know where we can get seven free Nimbus Two Thousand and One saddles for our match against Sly—"

The rest of Hiccup's sentence was drowned by a low baa from somewhere near his ankles. He looked down and found himself gazing into a very fluffy cloud. The fluffy cloud turned out to be Fungus, Mildew's pet sheep a sort of deputy in his endless battle against students.

"You better get out of here, Hiccup," said Njal quickly, "Mildew isn't in a good mood. He's got flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five; he's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place…"

"Right," said Hiccup, backing away from Fungus, but not quickly enough. Drawn to the spot by the mysterious power that seemed to connect him with his foul sheep, Mildew the Unpleasant burst suddenly through a tapestry to Hiccup's right, wheezing and looking wildly about for the rule-breaker. There was a thick woolly scarf bound around his head, and his nose was unusually purple.

"Oh, perfect," said Hiccup.

"Filth!" he shouted his jowls aquiver, his eyes popping alarmingly as he pointed at the muddy puddle that had dripped from Hiccup's clothing. "Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, runt!"

Hiccup thought it was a bit rich, Mildew calling him runt when he wasn't as tall as the teachers, but decided not to point that out. So Hiccup waved a gloomy goodbye to Nearly Headless Njal, and followed Mildew through a series of secret passages.

Hiccup was glad they weren't going outside, but he wasn't happy about entering Mildew's house. Hiccup had heard stories from Tuffnut and his twin sister Ruffnut about Mildew's place before; he could see why most of the students avoided going inside. The room was dingy and windowless, lit by a single dim lamp hanging from the ceiling. A foul smell came from a nearby cauldron, which Hiccup had not intent of investigating. He saw hanging on the wall four portraits, three of them were pictures of three very ugly looking Valkyries and the fourth one was of Fungus, this disturbed Hiccup quite a bit. Wooden filing cabinets stood around the walls; from their labels, Hiccup could see that they contained details of every pupil Mildew had ever punished. Double and Trouble Hofferson had an entire drawer to themselves and from the looks of it the Thorston twins were starting to get on as well. A highly polished collection of chains and manacles hung on the wall behind Mildew's desk. It was common knowledge that he was always begging Heyral the Wise to let him suspend students by their ankles from the ceiling.

Mildew grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and began shuffling around looking for parchment.

"Dung," he muttered furiously, "great sizzling dragon bogies… frog brains… rat intestines… I've had enough of it… make an _example_… where's the form… yes…"

He retrieved a large roll of parchment from his desk drawer and stretched it out in front of him, dipping his long black quill into the ink pot.

"_Name_… Hiccup Haddock…_ Crime_…"

"It was only a bit of mud!" said Hiccup.

"It's only a bit of mud to you, boy, but to me it's an extra hour scrubbing!" shouted Mildew, a drip shivering unpleasantly at the end of his bulbous nose. "_Crime_… befouling the mountain… _suggested sentence_…"

Dabbing at his streaming nose, Mildew squinted unpleasantly at Hiccup who waited with bated breath for his sentence to fall.

But as Mildew lowered his quill, there was a great bang coming down from the passage they'd just walked down.

"PEEVES!" Mildew roared, flinging down his quill in a transport of rage, "I'll have you this time, I'll have you!"

And without a backwards glance at Hiccup, Mildew grabbed his staff and ran down the passageway, Fungus walking alongside him.

Peeves was the academy's poltergeist, a grinning, airborne menace who lived to cause havoc and distress. Hiccup didn't much like Peeves, but couldn't help feeling grateful for his timing. Hopefully, whatever Peeves had done (and it sounded as though he'd wrecked something very big this time) would distract Mildew from Hiccup.

Thinking that he should probably wait for Mildew to come back, Hiccup sank into a moth-eaten chair next to the desk. there was only one thing on it apart from his half-completed form: a large, glossy, purple envelope with silver lettering on the front. With a quick glance at the passage door to check Mildew wasn't on his way back, Hiccup picked up the envelope and read:

KWIKSPELL

A Correspondence Course in

Beginners' Magic

Intrigued, Hiccup the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. More curly silver writing on the front page said:

Fell out of step in the world of modern magic? Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? Ever been taunted for your woeful handwork?

_There is an answer!_

Kwikspell is an all-new, fail-safe, quick-result, easy-learn course. Hundreds of Viking and Valkyries have benefited from the Kwikspell method!

Nettles the Dismal of Topsham writes:

"I had no memory for battle techniques and my potions were a family joke! Now, after a Kwiskspell course, I am the centre of attention at parties and friends beg for the recipe of my Scintillation Solution!"

Prod the Weak of Didsbury says:

"My wife used to sneer at my feeble water magic but one month into your fabulous Kwikspell course I succeeded in turning her into a yak! Thank you, Kwikspell!"

Fascinated, Hiccup thumbed through the rest of the envelope's contents. Why on Midgard did Mildew want a Kwiskspell course? Did this mean he wasn't a proper Viking? Hiccup was just reading "Lesson One: Holding Your Crystal Eye (Some Useful Tips)" when shuffling footsteps coming down the passageway told him Mildew was coming back. Stuffing the parchment back into the envelope. Hiccup threw it back onto the desk just as Mildew, who looked triumphant, walked in.

"That statue was extremely valuable!" he was saying gleefully to Fungus. "We'll have Peeves out this time, Fungus."

His eyes fell on Hiccup and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope which, Hiccup realized too late, was laying two feet away from where it had started.

Mildew's ugly face went brick red. Hiccup braced himself for a tidal wave of fury. Mildew hobbled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope and threw it into a drawer.

"Have you—did you read—?" he spluttered.

"No," Hiccup lied quickly.

Mildew knobbly hands were twisting together.

"If I thought you'd read my private… not that it's mine… for a friend… be that as it may… however…"

Hiccup was staring at him, alarmed; Mildew had never looked madder. His eyes were popping, a tic was going in one of his pouchy cheeks and the tartan scarf didn't help.

"Very well… go… and don't breathe a word… not that… however, if you didn't read… go now, I have to write up Peeves' report… go…"

Amazed at his luck, Hiccup sped out of the office, up the corridor and back upstairs. To escape from Mildew's house without punishment was probably some kind of academy record.

"Hiccup! Hiccup! Did it work?"

Nearly Headless Njal came gliding out of a wall. Next to him, Hiccup could see the wreckage of a large statue which appeared to have been dropped from a great height.

"I persuaded Peeves to crash it outside the passage way to Mildew's house," said Njal eagerly, "Thought it might distract him—"

"Was that you?" said Hiccup gratefully. "Yeah, it worked, I didn't even get detention. Thanks, Njal!"

They set off up the corridor together. Nearly Headless Njal, Hiccup noticed, was still holding Podmore the Headless' rejection letter.

"I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt," Hiccup said.

Nearly Headless Njal stopped in his tracks and Hiccup walked right through him. He wished he hadn't; it was like stepping through an icy shower.

"But there is something you could do for me," said Njal excitedly. "Hiccup—would I be asked too much—but no, you wouldn't want—"

"What is it?" Hiccup asked.

"Well, this Hallowe'en will be my five hundredth deathday," said Nearly Headless Njal, drawing himself up and looked dignified.

"Oh," said Hiccup, he wasn't sure whether he should either look sorry or happy about this news. "Right."

"I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an _honour_ if you would attend, Miss Hofferson and Mr Keatson would be most welcome too, of course—but I daresay you'd rather go to the academy feast?" He watched Hiccup on tenterhooks.

"No," said Hiccup quickly, "I'll come—"

"My dear boy! Hiccup Haddock, at my Deathday Party! And," he hesitated, looking excited, "do you think you could _possibly_ mention to Podmore how _very_ frightening and impressive you find me?"

"Of—of course," said Hiccup.

Nearly Headless Njal beamed at him.

* * *

><p>"A Deathday Party?" said Ragnar curiously, when Hiccup had changed at last and joined him and Astrid in the common room, "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those—it'll be fascinating!"<p>

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" said Astrid, who was halfway through her Potions homework and grumpy. "Sounds dead depressing to me…"

"I have a feeling it'll be more depressing if they celebrate their birthday," Ragnar pointed out.

Rain was still hitting the mountain walls, it sound as though a battle was going on outside. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Double and Trouble Hofferson, trying to find out what would happen you fed a Filibuster Firework to a baby Monstrous Nightmare. Double had "rescued" the bright-yellow dragon from the stables and it's escaped up the chimney, with accompanying explosions, drove both Mildew and the Kwikspell envelope from Hiccup's mind.

* * *

><p>By the time Hallowe'en arrived, Hiccup was starting to regret his rash promise to go to the Deathday Party. The rest of the academy were happily anticipating their Hallowe'en feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, vast pumpkins grown by Bucket and Mulch were carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in and there were rumours that Heyral the Wise had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.<p>

"You could say to Njal that you've changed your mind," said Astrid hopefully.

"I owe Njal a favour for getting out of trouble from Mildew," Hiccup remained.

So at seven o'clock, Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and touches, and directed their steps instead towards the dungeon.

The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Njal's party had been lined with touches too, though the effect was far from cheerful: there were long, thin, jet-black touch handles, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own loving faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took. Hiccup had to create one of his portable flames to keep them warm and then they heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.

"Is that supposed to be _music?_" Astrid whispered, as she snuggled close to Hiccup to stay warm.

They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Njal standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully, "Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come…"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Astrid muttered.

Njal swept off his dashing helmet and bowed them inside.

It was incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight blue with a thousand black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.

"Shall we have a look around?" Hiccup suggested, wanting to warm up his feet.

"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Astrid nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor.

They passed group of gloomy Valkyries, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Elder, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to Viking solider with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Hiccup wasn't surprised to see that the Bloody Viking, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by other ghosts.

"Oh no," said Astrid, stooping abruptly, "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle—"

"Who?" Hiccup asked, as they backtracked quickly.

"She haunts the girls' toilet on the first floor," said Astrid.

"She haunts a _toilet?_"

"Yes. It's been out of order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to go to the loo with her wailing at you."

"I thought you don't fear anything," said Ragnar, trying to hold back a laugh.

Astrid glared at him. "It's very hard to argue with a ghost especially with one that likes to pop out of the toilet whenever she likes," she said angrily.

Ragnar was silent and then he looked at the table behind her. "Look, food!" he said quickly.

On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. This brought Astrid's attention away from Ragnar and the three of them approached it eagerly, but next moment had stopped in their tracks, horrified. The smell was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters, cakes, burned charcoal black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in furry green mould and, in pride of place an enormous grey cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming words,

_Nearly Headless Njal_

_Died 31st October, 1515_

Hiccup watched, amazed, as portly ghost approached the table, crouched low and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon.

"Can you taste it if you walk though it?" Hiccup asked him.

"Almost," said the ghost sadly, and drifted away.

"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavour," said Ragnar knowledgably, pinching his nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.

"Can we move, I feel sick," said Astrid.

They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in mid-air before them.

"Hello, Peeves," said Hiccup cautiously.

Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves the Poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing bright orange party helmet, a revolving brooch and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face.

"Nibbles?" he asked sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.

"No thanks," said Astrid.

"Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," said Peeves, his eyes dancing, "_Rude_ you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and bellowed. "OY! MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset," Astrid whispered frantically. Hiccup had never seen Astrid like this and it scared him. "I didn't mean it, I don't mind her—uh, hello, Myrtle."

The squat ghost of a girl glided over. She had the glummest face Hiccup had ever seen, half-hidden behind hair and thick, pearly spectacles.

"What?" she said sulkily.

"How are you, Myrtle?" said Astrid, in a falsely bright voice. "It's nice to see you out of the toilet."

Myrtle sniffed.

"Miss Hofferson was just talking about you—" said Peeves slyly in Myrtle's ear.

"Just saying—saying—how nice you look tonight," said Astrid, glaring at Peeves.

Myrtle eyed Astrid suspiciously.

"You're making fun of me," she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes.

"No—honestly—didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?" said Astrid, nudging Hiccup and Ragnar painfully in the ribs.

"Oh, yeah…"

"She did…"

"Don't lie to me," Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeves chuckled happily over her shoulder, "D'you think I don't know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable moaning, moping Myrtle!"

"You've missed out 'spotty'," Peeves hissed in her ear.

Moaning Myrtle bust into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with mouldy peanuts, yelling, "_Spotty! Spotty!_"

"She very sensitive isn't she," said Ragnar.

Nearly Headless Njal now drifted towards them through the crowd.

"Enjoying yourselevs?"

"Oh yes," they lied.

"Not a bad turnout," Nearly Headless Njal proudly. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent… It's nearly time for my speech; I'd better go and warn the orchestra…"

The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, here we go," Nearly Headless Njal bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost dragons, each ridden by a headless rider. The assembly clapped wildly; Hiccup started to clap too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Njal's face.

Astrid looked at the dragons will extreme hate. Hiccup looked close and saw they the dragons they were riding weren't ghosts at all. They were solid, but they glowed in a ghostly blue. They also looked a mix between a Nightfury and a Skrill.

Hiccup looked at Astrid and said, "Are those—"

"Flightmares!" she said bitterly. "Yes they are."

The dragons flew into the middle of the dance floor and landed; a large ghost at the front, whose bearded head was under his arm, blowing the horn, hopped of his Flightmare, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed) and strode over to Nearly Headless Njal, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Njal!" he roared, "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Njal on the shoulder.

"Welcome, Podmore," said Njal stiffly.

"Live 'uns!" said Podmore, spotting Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).

"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Njal darkly.

"Don't mind Njal!" shouted Podmore's head from the floor, "still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say—look at the felloe—"

"I think," said Hiccup hurriedly at a meaningful look from Njal, "that Njal's very—frightening and—uh—"

"Ha!" yelled Podmore's head, "bet he asked you to say that!"

Astrid then walked up to Podmore's head with a very angrily look on her face and said, "You have very bad taste when it comes to dragons."

"Bad taste?" Podmore said in puzzlement. "Flightmare's are the only dragon that ghost can ride upon."

"Her favourite uncle was killed by one," Hiccup explained.

"Oh!" was all Podmore's head said.

"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Njal loudly, striding towards the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.

"My late lamented chiefs, ladies and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow…"

But nobody heard much more. Podmore and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd were turning to watch. Nearly Headless Njal tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Podmore's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.

Even with the ball of fire in his hand, Hiccup was very cold, not to mention hungry.

"I can't stand much more of this," Astrid muttered, her teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.

"Let's go," Hiccup agreed.

They backed towards the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at them, and a minute later were hurrying back up the passageway full of black touches.

"Pudding might not be finished yet," said Astrid hopefully, leading the way towards the steps to the Main Hall.

And then Hiccup heard it.

"…_rip…tear…kill…_"

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice he had heard in Lockhart's house.

He stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Hiccup, what're you—?"

"It's that voice again-shot up a minute—"

"…_soo hungry… for so long…_"

"Listen!" said Hiccup urgently, and Astrid and Ragnar froze, watching him.

"…_kill…time to kill…_"

The voice was growing fainter. Hiccup was sure it was moving away—moving upwards. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upwards? Was it a phantom, to whom stone ceilings didn't matter?

"This way," he shouted, and be began to run, up the stairs, into the Main Hall.

It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Hallowe'en Feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Hiccup sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Astrid and Ragnar clattering behind him.

"Hiccup, what are we—"

"SHH!"

Hiccup strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still he heard the voice: "_…I smell blood…I SMELL BLOOD!_"

His stomach lurched. "It's going to kill someone!" he shouted, and ignoring Astrid and Ragnar's bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own footsteps.

Hiccup hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Astrid and Ragnar panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Hiccup, _what_ was that all about?" Astrid asked looking confused. "I couldn't hear anything…"

"I think we've got other problems, guys," said Ragnar pointing down the corridor.

Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached, slowly squinting through the darkness. Foot high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPNED.

ENEIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"That's not the worst of it," said Ragnar.

He was right, as they edged nearer, Hiccup almost slipped over: there was a large puddle of water on the floor. Astrid and Ragnar grabbed him, and they inched towards the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realised what it was at once, and leapt backwards with a slash.

Fungus, Mildew's pet sheep, was hanging by a rope around on of his feet from the torch bracket. He was stiff as a board, his eyes wide and staring.

For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ragnar said, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help—" Hiccup began awkwardly.

"Trust me," said Ragnar, "We don't want to be found here."

"Yeah, I think we're too late for that," said Astrid.

Astrid was right. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the Feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging sheep. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students, pressing forwards to see the grisly sight.

"Great, just perfect," Hiccup moaned.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Snotlout. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile sheep.


	9. The Writing on the Wall

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted no doubt by Snotlout's shout, Mildew the Unpleasant came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Fungus and fell back, his eyes with horror.

"My Fungus! My Fungus! What's happened to my Fungus?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Hiccup.

"_You!_" he screeched, "_You!_ You've murdered my Fungus! You've killed him!" He walked up to Hiccup his staff raised. "I'll kill you! I'll—"

"_Mildew!_"

Heyral the Wise had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar and detached Fungus from the torch bracket.

He then looked at the crowd of students. "Everyone return to your dormitories at once, expect…" he pointed at Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar, "you three."

Once all the students were all gone, Heyral brought Fungus closer to the torchlight and examined him closely. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar exchanged tense looks; no doubt they were all worried about what was going to happen to them next.

Heyral was looking at Fungus closely and gently prodding and poked him with his good hand. Phlegma got in close to see Fungus and from the nervous look on her face it wasn't good. Grabbit loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: it was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Flashburn was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely some kind of Lightening Magic that killed her—probably the old Lightning Spear technique. I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there; I know the very counter-move that would have saved him…"

Flashburn's comments were punctuated by Mildew's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in as he used his staff as support, unable to look at Fungus. Much as he detested Mildew, Hiccup couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself. If Heyral believed Mildew, he would be expelled for sure.

Heyral was trying to send an electric charge through Fungus, waving his crystal eye that was imbedded in his axe prosthetic, but nothing happened: he continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"…I remember something very similar happening in Ouagaogou," said Flashburn, "a series of attacks, the full stories in my autobiography; I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets which cleared the matter up at once…"

At last Heyral straightened up.

"He's not dead, Mildew," he said softly.

Flashburn stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

"Not dead?" choked Mildew, straightening up looking at Fungus, "But why's he all—all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Heyral ("Ah! I thought so!" said Flashburn), "But how, I cannot say…"

"Ask _him!_" shrieked Mildew, turning his ugly and tear-stained face to Hiccup.

"No second year could have done this," said Heyral firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—"

"He did it, he did it!" Mildew spat, his ugly face purpling, "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found—in my house—he knows I'm a—I'm a—" Mildew's face worked horribly, "He knows I'm a Squib!" he finished.

"I never _touched_ Fungus!" Hiccup said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him. "And I don't even know what a Squib is."

"Rubbish!" snarled Mildew. "He saw my Kwiskspell letter!"

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Grabbit from the shadows, and Hiccup sense of foreboding increased; he was sure nothing Grabbit had to say was going to do him any good.

"Haddock and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it, "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all?" Why weren't they at the Hallowe'en feast?"

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar all lunched into an explanation about the Deathday party, "…there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there—"

"But why not join the feast afterwards?" said Grabbit, his black eyes glittering in the torchlight. "Why go up that corridor?"

Astrid and Ragnar looked at Hiccup.

"Because—because—" Hiccup said, his heart thumping very fast; something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear, "because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," he said.

"Without any supper?" said Grabbit, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face, "I didn't think ghosts provide food fit for living people at their parties."

"We weren't hungry," Hiccup lied.

He could tell from looking at Grabbit's eyes that he didn't believe him. He was even more sure when Grabbit gave him a nasty wide smile.

"I suggest, Headmaster, that Haddock is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Dragon Racing team until he is ready to be honest."

"Really, Grabbit," said Phlegma fiercely, "I see no reason to stop the boy from playing Dragon Racing. I don't see he's Night Fury anywhere or any dragon for that matter. Nor is there any evidence at all that Haddock had done anything wrong."

Heyral was giving Hiccup a searching look. His twinkling light blue gaze made Hiccup feel as though he was being X-rayed.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Grabbit," he said firmly.

Grabbit looked furious. So did Mildew.

"My Fungus has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some kind of _punishment!_"

"We will be able to cure her, Mildew," said Heyral patiently, "Flora recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they reached their full size, I will have a potion made which will revive Fungus."

"I'll make it," Flashburn butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times, I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Excuse me," said Grabbit icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was very awkward pause.

"You may go," Heyral said to Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar.

They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. When they were a floor up from crime scene, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them. Hiccup squinted at his friends' darkened faces.

"Do you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?"

"No," said Astrid, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't good, even in the magical world."

Something in Astrid's voice made Hiccup ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do," said Astrid softly. "But—you must admit it's weird, even for you…"

"That's not helping," said Hiccup. "What do you two think about the writing on the wall? _The Chamber has been Opened_… what's that supposed to mean?"

"I think I've heard about it before," said Astrid slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Berk once… might've been Bjorn…"

"And what on earth's a Squib?" said Hiccup.

To his surprise, Astrid giggled.

"Well—it's not funny really—but as it's Mildew…" she said. "A Squib is someone who was born into a Viking family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kinda the opposite of Muggle-born Vikings, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Mildew's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon me must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much." Astrid gave a satisfied smile. "He's bitter."

"And it explains how come he's never used on single bit of magic," said Ragnar.

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," said Hiccup. "We'd better get to bed before Grabbit comes along and tries to frame us for something else."

* * *

><p>For a few days, the academy could talk little but the attack on Fungus. Mildew kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where he had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Hiccup had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with "Skower the Clean's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover", but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Mildew wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy".<p>

Ripper Hofferson seemed very disturbed by Fungus's fate. According to Astrid, he was a great sheep-lover.

"But you hadn't really got to know Fungus," Astrid told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ripper looked scared. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Berk," Astrid assured him, "They'll catch the guy who did it and have him out of here in no time."

The attack had also had an effect on Ragnar. It was quite usual for Ragnar to spend a lot of time readying, but he was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Hiccup and Astrid get much response from him when they asked what he was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.

Hiccup had been held back in Potions, where Grabbit had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, he went upstairs to meet Astrid in the library, and saw Hardbottom Highhat, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming towards him. Hiccup had just opened his mouth to say hello when Hardbottom caught sight of him, turned abruptly and sped off in the opposite direction.

Hiccup found Astrid at the back of the library, measuring his History of Magic homework. Binns the Boring had asked for a three foot long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Vikings".

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short…" said Astrid furiously, letting go of her parchment which sprang back into a roll, "I still don't get how Ragnar is able to do four feet seven inches in his _neat_ handwriting."

"Where is he anyway?" asked Hiccup, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework.

"Somewhere over there," said Astrid, pointing along the shelves, "Looking for another book. I think he's trying to read the whole library before Snoggletog.

Hiccup told Astrid about Hardbottom Highhat running away from him.

"I wouldn't worry about him, Ragnar says he's an idiot," said Astrid, scribbling away, making her handwriting as large as possible, then she added bitterly. "He's thinks that because he said all the stuff Flashburn did is rubbish."

"Sounds fair to me," said Hiccup, satisfied that he had done the recommended three foot long composition.

Astrid looked angry and was about to say something, but Ragnar emerged from between the bookshelves. He looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them.

"_All_ the copies of _Berks: A History_ have been taken out," he said, sitting down next to Hiccup and Astrid. "And there's a two week waiting list. I _wish_ I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the stupid Flashburn books.

"Why do you want it?" Hiccup asked quickly before Astrid could shout.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Ragnar, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" Hiccup asked curiously.

"I don't know. Why do you think I want to look it up?" said Ragnar rolling his eyes. "And I can't find the story anywhere else—"

"Never mind that. Ragnar, do you mind if I read your composition," said Astrid desperately, checking his watch.

"Only if you admit that Flashburn is a useless teacher," said Ragnar, with a cunning smile.

"I will not!" Astrid yelled, as her face turned pink. "H-he's my hero."

"More like your crush," Ragnar muttered under his breath.

The bell rang. Astrid and Ragnar led the way to History of Magic, bickering.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their timetable. Binns the Boring, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his class was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shrivelled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff room fire, his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

Today was as boring as ever. Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in deep stupor, occasionally coming round long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Ragnar put up his hand.

Binns, glancing up in middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Berserkers Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Mr—uh—?"

"Keatson, sir. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Ragnar in a clear voice.

Both Tuffnut and Ruffnut, who both had been playing paper football with each other, turned around to look; Agatha Berdis's head came up off her arms and Fishlegs stared at Ragnar in amazement.

Binns blinked.

"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with _facts_, Mr Keatson, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a sub-committee of Sardinian warriors—"

He stuttered to a halt. Ragnar's hand was waving in the air again.

"Mr Kitson?"

"Sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Binns was looking at him in such amazement, Hiccup was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

"Well," said Binns slowly, "Yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Ragnar as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very _sensational_, even _ludicrous_ tale…"

But the whole class was now hanging on Binns' every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. Hiccup could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see… the Chamber of Secrets…"

"As you know when Hiccup Horrendous Haddock I or as he was offend called Hiccup the Dragon Whisper brought pace to our world over a thousand years ago—the precise date is uncertain—after which he trained four very skilled Viking and Valkyries, who would later become the founders of Berk, which was named after Hiccup the Dragon Whisper homeland. The four academy houses are named after them: Gryffindor the Courageous, Hufflepuff the Humble, Ravenclaw the Cleaver and Slytherin the Cunning. They carved the academy into this very mountain together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when both magic and dragons were feared by common people and they were afraid that another war could happen."

He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued, "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and showed the ability to bond with dragons, they brought them to this island to train them in the same way Hiccup the Dragon Whisper trained them. Each of them took students under their wing that had qualities that admired, Gryffindor took those with courage and those with strong wills, Hufflepuff took in the most loyally and the most hard working students, Ravenclaw too in the most intelligent and creative students and Slytherin took in the most resourceful and those with great determination. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more _selective_ about the students admitted to Berk. He believed that magical learning and the ability to bond with dragons should be kept within all-magic Viking clans. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the academy."

Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old Gronckle.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said, "but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the mountain, of which the others founders knew nothing."

"Slytherin, according to legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the academy. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the academy of all who were unworthy to study magic or bond with dragons."

There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Binns' classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more, Binns looked faintly annoyed.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the academy has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned Vikings and Valkyries. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Ragnar's hand was back in the air.

"Sir—what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monstrous dragon, which the heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Binns in his dry, reedy voice.

The class exchanged nervous looks, apart from Tuffnut and Ruffnut, who looked excited about the fact that a dangerous dragon was around the academy.

"That sounds awesome!" Tuffnut yelled.

"I know right!" Ruffnut yelled.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is not Chamber and no monstrous dragon."

"But, sir," said Wartihog, "if the Chamber can only opened by Slytherin's true heir, no noe else _would_ be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, Brangal," said Binns in an aggravated tone, "if a long succession of Berk's headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing—"

"But, sir," piped up Maria Stonefoot, "you've probably have to use Dark Magic to open it—"

"Just because a Viking _doesn't_ use Dark Magic, doesn't mean he _can't_, Miss Strongarm," snapped Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Heyral—"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Heyral couldn't—" began Hiccup, but Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built as much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to _history_, to solid, believable, verifiable _fact_!"

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.

* * *

><p>"I always knew Slytherin the Cunning was a creepy guy," Astrid told Hiccup and Ragnar, as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Helmet had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd have got the train straight back home…"<p>

"You and me both," said Ragnar.

Hiccup didn't speak. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly.

"Hiccup had never told Astrid and Ragnar that the Sorting Helmet had seriously considered putting _him_ in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it was yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he'd placed the helmet on his head a year before.

"_You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that…_"

But Hiccup, who had already heard of Slytherin house's reputation for turning out crazed Vikings, had thought desperately, "Not Slytherin!" and the hat had said, "_Oh, well, if you're sure… better be Gryffindor…_"

As they were shunted along in the throng, Gustav Larson went past.

"Hiya, Hiccup!"

"Hello, Gustav," said Hiccup automatically.

"Hiccup—Hiccup—a boy in my class has been saying you're—"

But Gustav was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him towards the Great Hall; they heard him squeak, "See you, Hiccup!" and he was gone.

"What's a boy in his class saying about you?" Ragnar wondered.

"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," said Hiccup, his stomach dropping another inch or so, as he suddenly remembered the way Hardbottom Highhat had run away from him at lunchtime.

"People here'll believe anything," said Astrid in disgust.

Ragnar was about to say something, Hiccup guess it had something to do with Flashburn. Not wanting to see an angry Astrid, he cut across him. "Do you _really_ think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" he asked Ragnar.

"I don't know," he said, frowning. "Heyral couldn't care Fungus, and that makes me think that whatever attacked him might not be—well—human. Also did you see the look on Phlegma? It was almost like she'd seen something like this before."

As he spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff sheep hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message "The Chamber has been Opened."

"That's where Mildew has been keeping guard," Astrid muttered.

They looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.

"Can't hurt to have a look around," said Hiccup, dropping his satchel and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues.

"Scorch marks!" he said, "Here—and here—but I can't tell what dragon made them."

"There was water on the floor as well," Ragnar reminded. "I wonder where it came from."

"I think I know," said Astrid. She walked past Mildew's chair and walked up to a door. She then turned the doorknob and opened it. She looked at Hiccup and Ragnar, rolled her eyes and said, "Well come on."

"We can't go in there," said Ragnar gruffly, "that's a girls' toilet."

"Don't worry about that," said Astrid. "This is Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look."

And ignoring the large "Out of Order" sign, she walked into the toilet and the two of them followed her.

It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Hiccup had ever set foot in, not that he'd step into many girls' toilet. Under a large, cracked and spotted mirror were a row of chipped, stone sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the cubicles were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

Astrid put a finger to her lips and set off towards the end cubicle. When she reached it she said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"

Hiccup and Ragnar went to look. Moaning Myrtle was floating on the cistern of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.

"This is a _girls'_ bathroom," she said, eyeing Ragnar and Hiccup suspiciously, "_They're_ not girls."

"No," Astrid agreed, "I just wanted to show them how—uh—nice it is in here."

She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.

"Ask her if she saw anything," Hiccup mouthed at Astrid.

"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.

"Nothing," said Hiccup quickly. "We wanted to ask—"

"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears, "I _do_ have feelings, you know, even if I _am_ dead."

"Myrtle, Hiccup is nothing like that and no one wants to upset you," said Astrid calmly, "He only—"

"My life was nothing but misery at this place only one person was ever nice to me and now people come along ruining my death!"

"We wanted to ask you if you'd seen anything funny latterly," said Astrid quickly, "Because a sheep was attacked right outside your front door on Hallowe'en."

"Did you see anyone near here that night?" Hiccup asked.

"I wasn't paying attention," said Myrtle dramatically. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to _kill_ myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'—that I'm—"

"Already dead," said Ragnar helpfully.

Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over and dived head first into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight; from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.

Hiccup and Ragnar stood with mouths open, but Astrid shrugged waerily and said, "That's almost cheerful for Myrtle… come on, let's go."

Hiccup had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all three of them jump.

"ASTRID!"

Sven Hofferson had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.

"Whatever you doing with Hiccup and Ragnar in there?" he asked.

"Just having a look around," Astrid shrugged. "Clues, you know…"

"Get—away—from—there—" he said, striding towards them and starting to chivvy them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you _care_ what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner…"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" Astrid asked angrily, stopping short and glaring at Sven with one of her fames death glares. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that sheep!"

"That's what I told Ripper," said Sven fiercely, "but he still seems to think you're going to be expelled; I've never seen him so upset, he was crying his eyes out. You might think of _him_, all the first years are thoroughly over-excited by this business—"

"_You_ don't care about Ripper," said Astrid, her temper was now reaching to new heights. "_You're_ just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy. Not only that but your embarrassed of every one of us, Dad, Double, Trouble and me, sometimes you pretend were not related to you."

"That's not true Astrid," said Sven said firmly. "I'll let you off with a warning, but if I see bring boys into girls' toilets again or break any other academy rules you'll get detention! So, no more _detective work_, or I'll write to Mum!"

And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Astrid's face.

* * *

><p>Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar chose seats as far as possible from Sven in the common room that night. Astrid was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting his Charms homework. When he reached absently for her crystal eye to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as her homework, Astrid slammed <em>The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2<em> shut. To Hiccup's surprise, Ragnar followed suit.

"Who can it be, though?" he said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. "Who'd _want_ all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Berk?"

"Isn't it obvious," said Astrid. "Who do we know who thinks all Muggle-borns are scum?"

She looked at Ragnar. Ragnar looked back, unconvinced.

"If you're talking about Snotlout—"

"Of course I am!" said Astrid. "You heard him: '_You'll be next, Mudbloods!_' Come on, you've only got to look as his foul rat face to know it's him—"

"Snotlout, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Ragnar sceptically.

"Astrid could be right, Rag," said Hiccup, closing his books, too. "Just look at his family they've been in Slytherin for generations, he's boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Astrid, "Handing it down, father to son…"

"It's a sound theory, but we have no proof," said Ragnar.

"Can't you tell or something with your Aura Magic?" said Hiccup.

"At the moment I can only sense if people our around, I haven't learned to tell if their telling the truth," said Ragnar. Both Hiccup and Astrid looked downhearted, but Ragnar then added, "There might be a way. Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty academy rules, I expect."

"What are you talking about?" Astrid asked, rolling her eyes.

"Fine," said Ragnar. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Snotlout a few questions without him realising it's us."

"But that's impossible," said Hiccup and Astrid nodded in agreement.

"No it's not," said Ragnar. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" said Astrid and Hiccup together.

"Grabbit mentioned it in class a few weeks ago—"

"Do you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Grabbit?" Astrid muttered.

"Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to," said Ragnar crossing his arms. "If you must know it transforms you into somebody else. All we have to do is change into three of the Slytherins. Snotlout boats about everything that makes him sound great."

"This Polyjuice Potion stuff sounds dangerous to me," said Astrid frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?"

"Don't worry it wears off," said Ragnar, "unless of course try to change into something in-human or something. But that's not the problem, the problem is Grabbit said the recipe for the potion is in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."

There was only one way to get out a book from Restricted Section: you need a signed note of permission from a teacher.

"Well that's that plan down the drain," said Astrid grumbly.

"I think," said Ragnar, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance…"

"No teacher in the world would fall for that," said Hiccup. "They'd have to be really stupid to fall for that…"


	10. The Rogue Bludger

Since the disastrous episode of Stormfly, Flashburn had been ever careful when it came from dragons. Once a week he got someone to bond with them, though it sometimes led to students being set to the Healing Centre. Luckily, Ragnar had little problem bonding with a Boneknapper, who he called Skull.

Skull was one of the largest dragons Flashburn had brought into class and at the first sight of him the students backed away as possible from him. Skull had olive-green skin that was scaleless, but he was well protected thanks to his bone armour, thought it made him look like a walking skeleton and unlike the other dragons he didn't had a roar.

However, most of the class was spent by Flashburn reading passages from his books to them, and sometimes re-enacted some of the more dramatic bits. Ragnar personally thought he was a far better actor than teacher. Ragnar had to feel sorry for Hiccup, because Flashburn would often pick Hiccup to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Hiccup had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Flashburn had freed him from a dark-elf in his cave, a frost-giant with a head-cold and a dark-elf who had been badly burnt by touching iron since Flashburn had dealt with him.

Hiccup was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Combat Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. Ragnar knew that is Hiccup hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Flashburn in a good mood; he would have refused to do it.

"Nice loud howl, Hiccup—exactly—and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced—like this—_slammed_ him to the floor—thus—with one hand I managed to hold him down—with my other, I put my sliver knife to his throat—I then screwed up my remaining strength and zapped him with the most powerful Lightning Magic I could muster—he left out a piteous moan—go on, Hiccup—higher than that—good—the fur vanished—the fangs shrank—and he turned back into a man. Simple,, yet effective—and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Flashburn got to his feet.

"Homework: compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga werewolf! Signed copies of _Magical Me_ to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave. Hiccup returned to the back of the room, where Astrid and Ragnar were waiting.

"Ready?" Hiccup muttered.

"Wait till everyone's gone," said Ragnar, just as the last student left the arena. "All right…"

Astrid quickly approached Flashburn's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Hiccup and Ragnar right behind her.

"Uh, Flasburn, sir," Astrid stammered. This was a first for both Ragnar and Hiccup; usually it was Hiccup who stammered. "I wanted to—to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it—I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in _Gabbing with Ghouls_ about slow-acting venoms…"

"Ah, _Gabbing with Ghouls_!" said Flashburn, taking the note from Astrid and smiled widely at her. "Possibly my very favourite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," said Astrid eagerly. "It was amazing, the way you performed the Lightning Spike attack on the whole lot…"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the most beautiful girl in the year a little extra help," said Flashburn warmly, and pulled out an enormous peacock quill. "Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, misreading the revolted look on Ragnar's face. "I usually save it for book signing."

He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Astrid.

"So, Hiccup," said Flashburn, while Astrid folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag, "tomorrow's the first Dragon Racing match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin match, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players…"

Ragnar heard Hiccup make an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried off after him and Astrid.

"I don't believe it," Hiccup said, as the three of them examined the signature on the note, "He didn't even _look_ at the book we wanted."

"What did you expert from an egotistic idiot?" said Ragnar. "Anyway at least we've got what we needed."

"He's _not_ an egotistic idiot," said Astrid furiously, as they half ran towards the library.

"You're only saying that because he said you're the most beautiful girl in the year," Hiccup muttered.

They dropped their voices as they entered the muffled stillness of the library.

Hairy the Librarian, was a thin, hairy old man who would be mistaken for Mildew's brother.

"_Moste Potente Potions_?" he repeated suspiciously trying to take the note from Astrid; but Astrid wouldn't let go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it," she said breathlessly.

"Oh, for the love of Thor," said Ragnar, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Hairy. "We'll get you another autograph. Flashburn will sign anything if it stands still long enough."

Hairy held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. He stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and mouldy-looking book. Ragnar put it carefully into her satchel and they left, trying not to walk too quickly or look guilty.

Five minutes later, they were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom once again. They had all agreed that Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was the last place anyone in their right minds would go, only this time Ragnar had used his Aura Magic to create a Detection Spell in case someone past the bathroom door. Moaning Myrtle was crying noisily in her cubicle, but they were ignoring her, and she them.

Ragnar opened _Moste Potente Potions_ carefully, and the three of them bent over the damp-spotted pages. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects too gruesome to think about, and there was some very illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a Valkyrie sprouting several extra pairs of arms out of her head.

"Here it is," said Ragnar excitedly, as he found the page headed _The Polyjuice Potion_. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Ragnar would see that Hiccup was hoping that the artist had imagined the looks of the intense pain on their faces.

"I've never seen a more complicated potion," said Ragnar, as he scanned the recipe. "We'll need lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed and knotgass," he murmured, running his finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough; they're in the student store-cupboard, so we'll be able to help ourselves. However, we'll need powdered horn of Bicorn, Shredded skin of a Boomslang and lastly a bit of whomever we want to change into."

"Wait a minute," said Astrid sharply. "Did you say we need a bit of whomever we want to change into?"

"Yes," said Ragnar. Astrid gave him a disgusting look. "Look I'm not happy I have to drink something with essence of Dogsbreath, but we need it that ingredient if we want this potion to work."

Astrid turned to Hiccup, who had discovered another problem.

"Uh, you do know that horn of Bicorn and shredded skin of a Boomslang are not in the students' cupboard and that means we'll have to break into Grabbit's private stores?"

"Yeah, but we'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it," said Ragnar shutting the book.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Astrid and I are already in trouble and Grabbit won't hesitate to expel us."

"If you've got a better idea I'm open, but right now this is our best shot to find out who the Heir of Slytherin is."

Both Hiccup and Astrid looked at other and nodded in agreement.

"How long will this take anyway?" Hiccup asked.

"Ah, well the fluzweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days—"

"How long?" Hiccup demanded.

"Well, give a take a few and if we can get all the ingredients. About a month."

"A month?!" Hiccup and Astrid yelled.

"Rag, if Snotlout is the Heir of Slytherin then he could have attacked had the Muggle-borns in the academy in that time," said Hiccup.

"I know, but I can't make the potion any fast," said Ragnar.

Astrid didn't look happy about this, but said, "Then let's do it."

However, while Ragnar checked if the coast was clear, he could hear Astrid muttering to Hiccup, "It'll be a lot less hassle if you got Toothless to blast Snotlout with a plasma blast tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Hiccup woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Dragon Racing match. He was more nervous than last year, and for him that was accomplishment, mainly at the thought of what Eret would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing saddles gold could buy. He had never wanted to beat Slytherin so badly. After half an hour of lying there with his insides churning, he got up, dressed, and went down to breakfast early, where he found the rest of Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much.<p>

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Dragon Racing stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Astrid and Ragnar came hurrying over to wish Hiccup good luck as he entered the changing rooms. The team put on their scarlet Gryffindor face paint, then sat down to listen to Eret's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin have better saddles than us," he began, "No point denying it. But we've got better _people_ on our saddles and better dragon wearing them. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers—" ("Too true," muttered Trouble Hofferson, "I haven't been properly dry since August") "—and we're going to make the rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Snotlout, buy his way onto their team."

Chest heaving with emotion, Eret turned to Hiccup.

"It'll be down to you, Hiccup."

"Isn't it always?" said Hiccup.

"Just show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Snotlout no matter the cost, Hiccup, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"Son no pressure," said Double, winking at him.

As they flew out onto the stadium, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard too. Madam Hooch, the Dragon Racing teacher, asked Dagur and Eret to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripped rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch, "three…two…one…"

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upwards, the fourteen players flew to their positions. Hiccup and Toothless flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

"All right there, Useless?" yelled Snotlout, as he and Hookfang shot passed them as though to show off the speed the saddle was providing.

Hiccup had no time to replay. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting towards him; it would have hit if Toothless hadn't dodged it.

"Thanks, bud," said Hiccup taking a breath of relief.

"That was sure a close one, Hiccup!" said Trouble, as he and Strike streaked past him, Trouble waving his club around, ready to knock the Bludger back towards a Slytherin. Hiccup saw Trouble give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Asger Pucson, but the Bludger changed direction in mid-air and shot straight for Hiccup again.

Toothless dropped quickly to avoid it, and Trouble managed to hit it hard towards Snotlout. Once again, the Bludger served like a boomerang and shot at Hiccup's head.

Hiccup gave Toothless a nudge and they zoomed towards the other end of the stadium. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludger never concentrated on one player like this, it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible…

Double Hofferson was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Hiccup ducked as Double swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

"That's done it!" Double yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted towards Hiccup and Toothless, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Toothless was forced to fly off at full speed.

"This—is—getting—ridiculous—!" Hiccup yelled, as he dodged the Bludger after each word.

It then started to rain; Hiccup felt heavy drops fall onto his face. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lock Jordson, who was commentating, say, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero."

The Slytherins' superior saddles were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was going all it could to knock Hiccup off Toothless. Double and Trouble were now flying so close to him either side that Hiccup could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had on chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.

"Someone's—tampered—with—this—Bludger—" Double grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Hiccup.

"We need time out," said Trouble, trying to signal to Eret and stop the Bludger breaking Hiccup's nose at the same time.

Eret had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Hiccup, Double and Trouble lead their dragons towards him, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Eret, as the Gryffindor team flew close together, while the Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Double, Trouble, where were you when that Bludger stopped Ase scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger murdering Hiccup, Eret," said Trouble angrily. "Someone's fixed it—it won't leave Hiccup alone, it hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's house since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then…" said Eret, anxiously.

"Well there's sure something wrong now," said Hiccup.

Madam Hoock was flying towards them on her Timerjack, Stokehead. Over her should, Hiccup could see the Slytherin jeering and pointing in his direction.

"Listen," said Hiccup, as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around Toothless and me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch it if it flies up my sleeve," said Hiccup. "Go bac to the rest of the team and let Toothless and me deal with the rogue one."

Toothless then stared at him. "I know, bud, I don't like it either," said Hiccup.

"I'm with Toothless on this one," said Double, "It'll take your head off."

Eret was looking from Hiccup to the Hoffersons.

"Eret, this is mad ever for us Vikings and Valkyries," said Alfhild Spinson angrily, "you can't let Hiccup deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an enquiry—"

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Hiccup, "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a mad Bludger! Come one, Eret, tell them to leave me alone!"

"This is all your fault," Trouble said angrily to Eret. "'Get the Snitch no matter the cost,' what a stupid thing to tell him!"

"I didn't mean to die for it," said Eret and looked at Hiccup. "Hiccup it's not worth getting killed over one match."

"We're Viking it's an occupation hazard," said Hiccup, he then quickly looked at Ase, Alfhild and Kari. "And that goes for Valkyries as well."

Madam Hooch had joined them.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Eret.

Eret looked at the determined look on Hiccup's face.

"Fine," he sighed. "Double, Trouble, you heard the man—leave him and Toothless alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Toothless zoomed forwards and Hiccup could hear the tell-tale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Toothless climbed. He looped and swooped, spiralled, zig-zagged and rolled. Hiccup was slightly dizzy, but he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open trying to spot the Snitch. The rain made it difficult to spot the Snitch and Toothless' flew didn't help. At one open Hiccup was hanging on Toothless' saddle upside down, as Toothless spun upside down to avoid another fierce dive from the Bludger. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Toothless could. Toothless began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edge of the stadium, squinting through the sliver sheets of rain to the Gryffindor goal-posts, where Asger Pucson was trying to get past Eret.

A whisling in Hiccup's ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.

"Training for the ballet, Useless?" yelled Snotlout, as Tootjless was forced to do stupid kind of twirl in mid-air to dodge the Bludger. Off Toothless fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him: and then, glaring back at Snotlout in hatred, he saw it, _the Dark Snitch_. It was hovering inched above Snotlout's left ear—and Snotlout, busy laughing at Hiccup, hadn't seen it.

Next second he was in great pain. Toothless had been hovering for too long and because of the Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Hiccup felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on Toothless' back, his left arm dangling useless at his side. The Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time aiming at his face. Toothless quickly swerved out of the way.

"Okay, bud, get over to Snotlout," Hiccup whispered to him.

Toothless understood him and turned course and dived straight at the shimmering sneering face below him. Snotlout stared at him in fear; he probably thought that he was going to attack.

"What the—" he gasped, careering out of Toothless' way.

Hiccup raised his remaining hand and despite the rain in his face and the pain in his other arm, he made a wild snatch and felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch. However, now that he wasn't holding Toothless' saddle he soon fell into the ice cold water below. The crowd gasped as he swam to the nearest pontoon, luckily it wasn't far and Toothless, who had landed on the pontoon early, pulled onto it.

His arm was hanging at a very strange angle. Riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.

"Aha," he said vaguely, "we've won."

And he fainted.

He came round, rain falling on his face, still lying on the pontoon, with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth.

"Oh no, not you," he moaned.

"The boy doesn't know what he's saying," said Flashburn loudly, to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Hiccup. I'm about to fix your arm."

"_No!"_ said Hiccup, "I'll keep it like this, thanks…"

He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. He heard a familiar clicking noise nearby.

"I don't want a photo of this, Gustav," he said loudly.

"Lie back, Hiccup," said Flashburn soothingly. "It's a simple bit of Water Magic I've used countless times.

"Why can't I just go to the Healing Center?" said Hiccup through clenched teeth.

"He should really, sir," said a dripping wet Eret, who couldn't help look slightly worried. "Great capture, Hiccup, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say."

Through the thicket legs around him, Hiccup spotted Double and Trouble wrestling the rouge Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight.

"Enough about the ruddy match," said Gobber. "The lad needs ter get ter the Healing Center ter get someone more capable ter fix it."

"Nonsense Gobber," said Flashburn, "I'm more than capable to heal to young Hiccup. Now stand back." Flashburn then summoned some water from the pitch into his hand.

"No—don't—" said Hiccup weakly. Toothless tried to stop Flashburn, but was too late. Flashburn hand placed his arm on Hiccup's arm.

The water sinked into his arm and a strange and unpleasant sensation started at Hiccup's shoulder and speared all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was being deflated. He didn't dare look at what was happening. He had shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fears were realised. When he tried to move his arm nothing happened in fact it felt nothing remotely like an arm.

"Ah, yes. Well, that can sometimes happen," said Flashburn, as he held Hiccup arm. He then twisted his arm backwards and everyone gave a disgusting face at it, apart from Hiccup, who was looking at it in horror. "The good news is that, uh, you can no longer feel any pain and very clearly the bones are not broken."

"Broken!" said Gobber furiously. "There no bones left!"

Gobber was right; Flashburn hadn't mended Hiccup's bones. He had removed them. It was now like flesh-coloured rubber glove

"Much more flexible though," said Flashburn, as Hiccup arm returned to its original position.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Hiccup found himself in a bed in the Heal Centre, being tended by Flora, who wasn't at all pleased.<p>

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remains of what use to be Hiccup's arm. "I can mend bones in a heartbeat—but growing them back—"

"You will be able to, won't you?" Ragnar asked hopefully.

"Oh, I'll be able to, but it will be painful," said Flora grimly, throwing Hiccup a pair of pyjamas. "You'll have to stay the night."

Astrid waited outside the curtain drawn around Hiccup's bed while Ragnar helped him into his pyjamas. It took a while to stuff the ruby, boneless arm into a sleeve.

"How can you stick up for Flashburn now, Astrid, eh?" Ragnar called through the curtain as he pulled Hiccup's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Hiccup had wanted de-boning he would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake," said Astrid, "And it doesn't hurt any more, does it, Hiccup?"

"No," said Hiccup. "But it no long functions like an arm now."

As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm flapped pointlessly.

Astrid and Flora came around the curtain. Flora was holding a large bottle of something labelled "Skele-Gro".

"You're in for a rough night, Hiccup," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

So was taking the Skele-Gro. The moment it entered Hiccup's mouth, he spat it out all over the bed. It felt like he was eating fire.

"What were you expecting, yak milk?" Flora said rolling her eyes, as she poured another beakerful.

After Hiccup took it, this time managed to hold it down, though it made him cough and splutter, Flora left him muttering about dangerous sports and inept teachers.

"We won though," said Astrid, a grin breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. Snotlout's face… he looked ready to kill."

"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," said Ragnar darkly.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Hiccup, sinking back onto his pillow. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff…"

"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking," said Astrid.

The door of the healing centre burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Hiccup.

"Unbelievable flying, Hiccup," said Trouble. "I've just seen Dagur yelling at Snotlout. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Snotlout didn't seem too happy."

"Yeah, well I think Toothless deserves most of the credit," Hiccup said and looked at Astrid. "Can you feed Toothless for me?"

"Sure, he deserves something for keeping you alive," said Astrid.

The Gryffindor team brought cakes, sweets and bottles of warm yak milk; they gathered around Hiccup's bed and were getting started on what promised to be a good party when Flora came storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

And Hiccup was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains in his limp arm.

* * *

><p>Hours and hours later, Hiccup woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: his arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, he thought it was that which had woken him. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realised that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.<p>

"Get off!" he said loudly, and then, "_Dobby_!"

The house-elf's goggling tennis-ball eyes were peering at Hiccup through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.

"Hiccup Haddock came back to Berk," he whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Hiccup Haddock. Ah, sir, why didn't he heed Dobby?" Why didn't Hiccup Haddock go back home when he missed the train?"

Hiccup heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.

"What're going here?" he said. "And how did you know I missed the train?"

Dobby's lips trembled and Hiccup seized by a sudden suspicion.

"It was _you_!" he said slowly, "_you_ stopped the barrier letting us through!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping, "Dobby mid and watch for Hiccup Haddock and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterwards—" he showed Hiccup ten, long, bandaged fingers, "—but Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Hiccup Haddock was safe, and _never_ did Dobby dream that Hiccup Haddock would get to Berk another way!"

He was rocking backwards and forwards, shaking his ugly head.

"Dobby was so shocked when he heard Hiccup Haddock was back at Berk, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir…"

Hiccup slumped back onto his pillows.

"You nearly got Astrid and me expelled," he said fiercely. "You'd better clear off before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you and if Astrid finds you she'll do a lot worse."

Dobby smiled weakly.

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."

He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore; looking so pathetic that Hiccup couldn't help but felt his sad for him.

"Why do you wear that thing, Dobby?" he asked curiously.

"This, sir?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. "This is a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever."

Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Hiccup Haddock _must_ go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make—"

"_Your_ Bludger?" said Hiccup, anger rising once more, "What do you mean y_our_ Bludger? _You_ made that Bludger try and hill me?"

"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Hiccup Haddock's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, sir! Dobby only wanted Hiccup Haddock hurt enough to be sent home!"

"You have a funny way of saving people, Dobby," said Hiccup angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Hiccup Haddock only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, us dregs of magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when the Dragon Lord was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase, "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over the Dragon Lord. Hiccup Haddock survived, and the Dragon Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Hiccup Haddock shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dragon Lord would never end, sir… and now, at Berk, terrible things are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Hiccup Haddock stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more—"

"Wait, your say that this happened before and that there is really a Chamber of Secrets," said Hiccup.

"I shouldn't have said that," Dobby gasped, he then grabbed the bottle of Skele-Gro and began hitting his head with it, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby…"

Hiccup grabbed the bottle of Skele-Gro, pulled it out of Dobby's hands and placed it back on the table far from Dobby's reach.

"You better start giving me a straight answer Dobby, like whose opened it and how I'm in changer because I'm not a Muggle-born," said Hiccup, grabbing Dobby's pillowcase by the scuff of the neck.

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the house-elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Hiccup Haddock must not be here when they happen. Go home, Hiccup Haddock. Go home; Hiccup Haddock must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous—"

"I'm not going anywhere!" said Hiccup firmly. "One of my best friends is Muggle-born, he'll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened—"

"Hiccup Haddock risks his own life for his friends!" moaned Dobby, in kind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But he must save himself, he must, Hiccup Haddock must not—"

Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Hiccup heard it too. There were footsteps coming from outside the healing centre.

"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified; he then disappeared in a puff of white smoke, and Hiccup's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. He slumped back into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the healing centre as the footsteps drew nearer.

Next moment the door opened and Heyral the Wise was backing into the house wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap with horns poking out of it. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Phlegma the Fierce appeared a second later, carrying its feet Together they heaved it onto the bed. Flora then came in wearing a cardigan over her nightdress.

Hiccup lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. He listened in to them as they talked and saw Flora examining the statue.

"What happened?" Flora asked.

"Another attack," said Heyral. "Phlegma found him on the stairs."

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said Phlegma. "We think he was trying to sneak down here to visit, Hiccup."

Hiccup's stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, he raised himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.

It was Gustav Larson. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

"Petrified?" whispered Flora.

"Yes, just like Valka was," said Phlegma. Hiccup almost let out a large gasp, but controlled himself. "But I shudder to think… if Heyral hadn't been on the way to the Great Hall for hot chocolate, who knows what might have…"

The three of them stared down at Gustav. Then Heyral leaned forward and prised the camera out of Gustav's rigid grip.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" said Phlegma eagerly.

Heyral didn't answer. He prised open the back of the camera.

"Odin's bread," said Flora.

A jet of stream had hissed out of the camera. Hiccup, three beds away, caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.

"Melted," said Flora wonderingly, "all melted…"

"What does this _mean_, Heyral?" Phlegma asked urgently.

"I think we both know what this means, Phlegma," said Heyral. "It means that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

Flora clapped a hand over to her mouth. Phlegma stared at Heyral.

"But Heyral… surely… _who_?"

"The question is not _who_," said Heyral, his eyes on Gustav. "The question is, _how_…"

And from what Hiccup could see of Phlegma's shadowy fac, she didn't understand this any better than he did.


	11. The Duelling Club

Hiccup woke up on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with winter sunlight and his arm re-boned but very stiff. He sat up quickly and looked over to Gustav's bed, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains Hiccup had changed behind yesterday. Seeing that he was awake, Flora came bustling over with a breakfast tray and then began bending and stretched his arm and fingers.

"All in order," she said, as clumsily fed himself with porridge right-handed. "When you've finished eating, you may leave."

Hiccup dressed as quickly as he could and hurried off to the Gryffindor common room, desperate to tell Astrid and Ragnar about Gustav and Dobby, but they weren't there. Hiccup left look for them wondering where they could have got to and feeling slightly hurt that they weren't interested in whether he had his bones back or not.

As Hiccup passed the library, Sven Hofferson strolled out of it, looking in far better spirits than last time they'd met.

"Oh, hello, Hiccup," he said, "Excellent flying yesterday, really excellent. Gryffindor have just taken the lead for the House Cup—you earned fifty points!"

"You haven't seen Astrid or Ragnar, have you?" Hiccup asked.

"No, I haven't," said Sven, his smile fading. "I hope Astrid hasn't led Ragnar into another _girls' toilet_…"

Hiccup forced a laugh, watched Sven out of sight and then headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He couldn't see why Astrid and Ragnar would be in there again, but after making sure than neither Mildew nor any prefects were around, he opened the door and heard their voices coming from a locked cubicle.

"It's me," he said, closing the door behind him. There was a clunk, a splash and gasp from within the cubicle and he saw Ragnar's eye peering through the keyhole.

"_Hiccup_!" he said. "I should have known it was your aura approaching. Come in—how's your arm?"

"Fine," said Hiccup squeezing into the cubicle. An old cauldron was perched on the toilet, and a cracking from under the rim told Hiccup they had lit a fire beneath it. Hiccup remembered before the Dragon Racing match that he created a waterproof fire for them.

"We'd come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion," Astrid explained, as, with difficulty, locked the cubicle again. "We've decided this is the safest place to hide it."

Hiccup started to tell them about Gustav, but Ragnar interrupted: "We already know, we heard Phlegma telling Flitwick this morning. That's why we decided we'd better get going—"

"The sooner we get a confession out of Snotlout, the better," said Astrid, as she slammed her fist together. "Do you know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after the Dragon Racing match, he took it out on Gustav."

"There's something else," said Hiccup, watching Ragnar tearing bundles of Knotgrass and throwing them into the potion, "Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night."

Astrid and Ragnar looked up, amazed. Hiccup told them everything Dobby had told him—or hadn't told him and what he heard Heyral say to Phlegma. Astrid and Ragnar listened with their mouths open.

"So, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened _before_ and your _mother_ had been attacked as well?" said Ragnar.

"This settles it," said Astrid in a triumphant voice. "Spitelout the Stern must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told Snotlout how to do it. It's obvious."

"Yeah, but the way Heyral was talking it sounded as though he knew who was opening the Chamber," said Hiccup.

"Then why hasn't he cucked anyone out?" Astrid asked.

"Maybe he doesn't have proof yet," said Ragnar. "And even if Snotlout isn't the heir—"

"Which he is," Astrid muttered.

"He could be helping him or her and knowing him he'll most likely brag about it."

"Wish Dobby told you what kind of dragon's in there, though," said Astrid in wonder. "I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking round the academy."

"It could be a Changewing, they can blend in with their surroundings," said Ragnar, prodding Leeches to the bottom of the cauldron. "Or maybe it's a Speed Stinger, they can move fast…"

"You read too much, Rag," said Astrid, pouring dead Lacewings on top of the Leeches. She crumpled up the empty Lacewings bag and looked at Hiccup.

"So, Dobby stopped us getting on the train and broke your arm…" She shook her head. "You know what, Hiccup? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you."

The news that Gustav Larson had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the healing centre had spread through the entire academy by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumour and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the mountain in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Ripper Hofferson, who was Gustav best friend, was distraught, but Hiccup felt that Double and Trouble were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking it in turns to cover themselves with fur or boils and jump out at him from behind statues. They only stopped when Sven, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs Hofferson and tell her Ripper was having nightmares.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets and other protective devices was sweeping the academy. Fishlegs bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal and a rotting newt-tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger: he was a pure-blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Mildew first," Fishlegs said, his thin legs shaking, "and everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

* * *

><p>In the second week of December Phlegma came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at the academy for Snoggletog. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar signed her list; they had heard that Snotlout was staying, which struck them as very suspicious. The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him.<p>

Unfortunately, the potion was only half-finished. They still needed the Nicorn horn and the Boomslang skin, and the only place theywere going to get them was from Grabbit's private stores. Hiccup privately felt he'd rather face Slytherin's legendary monster than have Grabbit catch him robbing his office.

"What we need," said Ragnar briskly, as Thursday afternoon's double Potions lesson loomed nearer, "is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Grabbit's office and take what we need."

Hiccup and Astrid looked at him nervously.

"Don't worry I'll do the stealing," Ragnar assured them. "You two will be expelled if you get in any more trouble, and I've got a clean record. So all you need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Grabbit busy for five minutes or so."

Hiccup smiled feebly. Deliberately causing mayhem in Grabbit's Potions class was about as safe as poking a Monstrous Nightmare in the eye.

Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Grabbit prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors' work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively. Snotlout, who was Grabbit's favourite student, kept flicking his eye lids at Astrid, who kept on think that Astrid was in to him and if she or Hiccup reacted they would get detention faster than you could say "unfair".

Hiccup's Swelling Solution was far too runny, but he had his mind on more important things. He was waiting for Ragnar's signal, and he hardly listened as Grabbit paused to sneer at his watery potion. When Grabbit turned and walked off to bully Fishlegs, Ragnar caught Hiccup's eye and nodded.

Hiccup ducked swiftly behind his cauldron, pulled one of Double's Filibuster fireworks out of his pocket and used his Fire Magic to make it fizz and sputter. Knowing he hand only seconds, Hiccup straightened up, took aim, and lobbed it into the air; it landed right on target in Clueless' cauldron.

Clueless' potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Snotlout got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Clueless blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had explanded to the size of dinner plates, while Grabbit was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Hiccup saw Ragnar slid quietly out of the door.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Grabbit roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft. When I find out who did this…"

Hiccup tried not to laugh as he watched Snotlout hurry forward, his head drooping with the weight on a nose like a small melon. As half the class lumbered up to Grabbit's desk, some weighed down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffed-up lips, Hiccup saw Ragnar slide back into the dungeon, his satchel bulging.

"You know it's a shame that Snotlout is getting cured, he's a lot better looking now," Astrid said to Hiccup.

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Grabbit swept over Clueless' cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was sudden hush.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Grabbit whispered, "I shall _make sure_ that person is expelled."

Hiccup arranged his face into what he hoped was puzzled expression. Grabbit was looking right at him, and the bell which rang ten minutes later could not have been more welcome."

"He knew it was me," Hiccup told Astrid and Ragnar, as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, "I could tell."

Ragnar threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.

"It'll be ready in a fortnight," he said happily.

"Grabbit can't prove it was you," said Astrid reassuringly to Hiccup. "What can he do?"

"Knowing Grabbit, something foul," said Hiccup, as the potion frothed and bubbled.

* * *

><p>A week later, Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar were walking across the Great Hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up, Warthog, Ruffnut and Tuffnut beckoned them over, looking excited.<p>

"They're starting a Duelling Club!" said Warthog, "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind duelling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days…"

"What, you reckon Slytherin's dragon can duel?" said Astrid, but she too read the sign with interest.

"It sounds awesome," Tuffnut said eagerly.

"I know right," said Ruffnut just as excited. "Do you think we can blow something up?"

"Could be useful," Astrid said to Hiccup and Ragnar as they went into dinner, "Shall we go?"

Hiccup and Ragnar were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried to the arena. The arena's desks were gone and in the centre was a wooden stage with burning touches at each corner. The caged ceiling had been raised up so now it was about thirty feet in the air. Most of the students were holding their weapons and had their crystal eyes imbedded in them.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Astrid, as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a duelling champion when he was young, maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not—" Hiccup began, but he ended on a groan and Ragnar turned and saw the reason why. Flashburn was walking onto the stage, resplendent in a cape of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Grabbit, wearing his usual black.

Flashburn waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

"Now, Heyral the Wise has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my published works."

"Let me introduce my assistant Grabbit the Grim," said Flashburn, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear."

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ragnar muttered in Hiccup's ear.

Grabbit's upper lip was curling. Hiccup wondered why Flashburn was still smiling; if Grabbit had been looking at _him_ like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Flashburn and Grabbit They turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Flashburn did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Grabbit jerked his head irritably. They pulled out their weapons for Flashburn a sword and Grabbit an axe and held them tightly in their hands ready to fight.

"As you see, we are holding our weapons in the accepted combative positions and our crystal eyes are firmly in place," Flashburn told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will begin to duel. Neither of us will be going for the kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Hiccup murmured, Ragnar saw his point when he saw Grabbit's baring his teeth.

"One—two—three—"

They both charged at each other with magic passing through their weapons. Flashburn's sword was covered in a weak electrical current, while Grabbit's axe was covered in a furious flame. Their two weapons collided and the moment they touched Flashburn was flown backwards off the stage, smashed into the wall and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Snotlout and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Astrid looked over every ones shoulders. "Do you think he's all right?" she asked.

"Who cares?" said Hiccup and Ragnar together.

Flashburn was getting unsteadily to his feet. His helmet had fallen off and his wavy hair was a bit scorched.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "As Grabbit had shown perfectly the way to throw your opponent off balance is to charge your weapon with powerful magic. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Grabbit, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…"

Grabbit was looking murderous. Possibly Flashburn had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Grabbit, if you'd like to help me…"

Flashburn looked around the area and saw Hiccup. "Ah, Hiccup way don't you partner up with Miss Hofferson."

"A bad idea, Flashburn," said Grabbit, gliding over like a Night Fury. "Miss Hofferson's crystal eye is badly change and has problems casting the simplest spells, we'll be sending Haddock to the heal centre in a matchbox. I suggest she should be partnered up with Miss Thickarm."

"Okay, then how about Mr Ragnar—"

But Grabbit spoke up again. "No, time to split up the dream team, I think. Keatson go with Ingerman."

"What about Hiccup?" Flashburn asked.

"I have the perfect partner for him, Mr Jorgenson, come over here. See what you can do with the famous Haddock."

Once everyone were put in to pairs, Flashburn and Grabbit walked onto the stage.

"Okay, which pair should we have," Flashburn said looking around. "Ah, how about Miss Hofferson and Miss Thickarm."

Astrid walked onto the stage holding her axe tightly in her hand. Helly Thickarm walked onto the stage too. She was three times as big as Astrid and was no were near as attractive and in her hand she held a huge mace.

Ragnar was a bit worried since Astrid's crystal made it impossible to cast magic properly. However, once they started those worries disappeared almost at once. Astrid charged at Thickarm, who tried to hit her with an icy blizzard, but Astrid ducked down under it and went into a skid. Next second she went through in-between Thickarm's legs and jumped onto her back.

Thickarm tried to throw her off, but Astrid clutched her hair tightly. Thickarm screamed as Astrid pulled her hair. They Gryffindors were cheering, but the match stopped when Grabbit walked onto the stage.

"That enough!" Grabbit yelled.

Astrid, reluctantly, released her grip on Thickarm. Grabbit gave her a furious look that if a normal person looked into it they would run to the hills; Astrid on the other hand just stood and took it in.

"Excellent show from Miss Astrid and Miss Thickarm," said Flashburn happily, as Astrid and Thickarm walked off the stage. "Now how about Hiccup and Mr Jorgenson next."

Hiccup walked up on to stage and as he passed Astrid, she whispered, "Good luck."

When Hiccup walked onto the stage, Flashburn pulled him close to give him advice. Ragnar had to lean in a bit to hear what Flashburn was saying.

"Now, Hiccup," said Flashburn, "when Snotlout charges at you with his mace you, you do _this_."

He raised his own sword, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action that Ragnar guessed was some kind of disarming move, but he dropped it. Ragnar saw Grabbit smirking as Flashburn quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops—my sword is a little over-excited."

By this time Astrid had joined Ragnar. "Do you think he'll be able to Snotlout out?" she asked worriedly.

"I thought you had faith in Flashburn's training?" Ragnar said raising an eyebrow.

"I do, but I don't trust Grabbit," she said furiously.

Ragnar had to agree that Astrid had a point. Grabbit had moved closer to Snotlout, bent down and whispered something in his ear. Snotlout smirked too. Ragnar saw Hiccup looked nervous and said, "Sir, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

About a minute later, both Hiccup and Snotlout moved towards each other, with their weapons in hand. Once they were a foot from each other they bowed.

"Scared, Useless?" said Snotlout, smirking.

"You wish," said Hiccup out of the corner of his mouth.

"Three—two—one—go!" Flashburn shouted.

Almost at once Snotlout began to attack Hiccup with a fierily mace, but Hiccup kept on dodging each one of his attacks. Ragnar had to admit that Hiccup was faster than he looked, but speed alone wouldn't be enough to beat Snotlout.

Hiccup seemed to have thought the same, because after dodging one of Snotlout's swings, he sent a fierily slash that flipped Snotlout forwards making him land on his bottom. All the Gryffindors cheered, while the Slytherins booed and hissed.

Snotlout looked really mad now, because once he got onto his feet, he spun his mace around like a mad man. Next second it exploded. Everyone watched as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Haddock," said Grabbit lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Hiccup standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it…"

"Allow me!" shouted Flashburn. He brandished his sword at the snake and fired a bolt of lightning from it. When it hit the snake, it flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight towards Hardbottom Highhat and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Then Hiccup did something every weird. He walked towards the as though his legs were on castors and he began to hiss at the snake as though he was ordering it to attack. The snake, however, slumped to the floor, docile as a thick black garden hose, its eyes now on Hiccup.

Ragnar looked at Astrid and she had the same face of horror on her face. They had just heard Hiccup spoke Parseltongue. It didn't seem possible, but that's what they heard and Hiccup acted as though it was perfectly normal.

They saw Hardbottom looking angry and scared and this seemed to have caught Hiccup off guard since he was grinning at him a moment ago.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Hardbottom shouted at Hiccup. Next second Hardbottom had turned and stormed out of the arena.

Grabbit stepped forward, waved his axe and sent a stream of bright red flames at the snake turning it to ash. Grabbit, too, was looking at Hiccup in an unexpected way: it was a shrewd and calculating look, and Ragnar could blame Hiccup for not liking it.

Ragnar looked at Astrid and nodded. They climbed onto the stage; each grabbed an arm and rushed out of the arena like a couple of Speed Stringers.

"Time to go," Ragnar whispered in Hiccup's ear.

As they exited the arena, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. Hiccup looked confused and looked at Ragnar and Astrid hoping they could give him a straight answer. They didn't give him on until they dragged him all the way up to the empty Gryffindor common room. Then Astrid pushed Hiccup into an armchair, glared at him and said, "You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" Hiccup asked sounding even more confused.

"A _Parselmouth_!" said Astrid. "You can talk to snakes!"

"I know," said Hiccup as though it wasn't a big deal. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it; I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Olaf at the zoo once—long story—but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. That was before I knew I was a Viking…"

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Astrid repeated faintly.

"So?" said Hiccup, "I bet load of Vikings here can do it."

Astrid looked at Ragnar with look that said, "Can you believe this."

"You tell him you grow up hearing about," said Ragnar. Astrid didn't look happy about this but sighed.

"Tell me what?" said Hiccup now getting annoyed.

"Not a lot of Vikings can," said Astrid. "It's not a very common gift, Hiccup."

"You mind explaining what you two are on about," said Hiccup, starting to get quite angry. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Hardbottom—"

"Oh, that what you said to it?"

"What do you mean? You were there…you heard me."

"I heard you speaking Parseltongue," said Astrid, "snake language. To us it sounded as though you wanted the snake to hit Hardbottom's head off. It was really creping me out, you know."

Hiccup gaped at her, Ragnar couldn't blame Astrid never had shown any signs of being creped out. If this creped her out then they differently had a problem.

"I spoke a different language? But—I didn't realise—how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

"Yeah, but you ever knew you could fly a dragon or use magic either," Ragnar pointed out.

Hiccup looked at him and Astrid; obviously he couldn't see the problem. Though, the way that he and Astrid were looking at him as though someone had died didn't help.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a snake biting Hardbottom's head off?" Hiccup said. "What does it matter _how_ I did it as long as Hardbottom doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

"It matters," said Ragnar in a hushed voice, "because being able to talk to snakes was what Slytherin the Cunning famous for. You see Parselmouths also have a way with serpent like dragon like Hideous Zipplebacks and Whispering Deaths. That's why the symbol of Slytherin house is a Hideous Zippleback."

Hiccup's mouth fell open.

"Exactly," said Astrid. "And now the whole academy's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something…"

"But I'm not," said Hiccup, with panic in his voice. "I mean I'm decedent from Hiccup the Dragon Whisper."

"Yeah, that's the thing Hiccup," said Astrid rubbing the back of her neck. "You see pure-blood Viking clans are related to one another if their forced on having a pure-blood Viking clan."

"But I'm a half-blood," Hiccup pointed out.

"Yes," Astrid agreed, "but your father was a pure-blood."

"And you'll have a hard time proving you're not related to him," said Ragnar. "He lived over a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be."

* * *

><p>To say Hiccup was depressed would be an understatement. He spent last night lying in bed for hours think as snow started to drift pass the window. Astrid was right, he didn't know anything about his father's family and the Dalssons had always forbidden questions about his clan's heritage.<p>

At first he was going to dismiss the idea completely because he was in Gryffindor, but then he remembered that the Sorting Helmet had tried to put him in Slytherin house last year.

Well this morning he was going to explain to Hardbottom in Herbology that he'd been calling the snake off, not trying to get it to attack him.

However, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of term was cancelled: Flora wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one, else, now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Fungus and Gustav.

Hiccup fretted about this next to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, while Astrid and Ragnar used their lesson off to play a game of Viking chess.

"Oh, for the love of Thor, Hiccup," said Ragnar, exasperated, as one of Astrid's elders wrestled his Berserker to the ground and dragged it off the board. "Go and _find_ Hardbottom if it's so important to you."

So Hiccup got up and left through the Portrait hole, wondering where Hardbottom might be.

The mountain was darker than it usually was in daytime, because of the thick, swirling grey snow at every window. Shivering, Hiccup walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within. Phlegma was shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger. Resisting the urge to take a look, Hiccup walked on by, thinking that Hardbottom might be using his free lesson to catch up on some work, and deciding to check the library first.

A group of the Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were indeed sitting at the back of the library, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Hiccup could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. He couldn't see whether Hardbottom was among them. he was walking towards them when something of what they were saying met his ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility section.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Hardbottom to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Haddock's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Hardbottom been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Haddock he was Muggle-born. Hardbottom actually _told_ him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it _is_ Haddock, then Speedfist?" said a little girl wearing yellowish bear costume anxiously, who Hiccup recognised as Eggingarde Damer.

"Egg," said the stout boy solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of an evil Viking. Have you ever heard of a decent who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Speedfist went on, "Remember what was written on the wall? _Enemies of the Heir Beware_. Haddock had some sort of run-in with Mildew. Next thing we know, Mildew's sheep attacked. "That first year, Gustav Larson, was annoying Haddock at the Dragon Racing match, taking pictures of him while lying on the pontoon soaking wet. Next thing we know, Larson's been attacked."

"He always seems so, nice, though," said Eggingarde uncertainly, "and, well, he's the one who made the Dragon Lord disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"

Speedfist lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Hiccup edged nearer so that he could Speedfist's words.

"No one knows how he survived that attack by the Dragon Lord. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Viking with powerful Dark Magic could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, "_That's_ probably why the Dragon Lord wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another tyrant _competing_ with him. I'm will to bet his father wanted to take over as well and only pretended to be a good guy."

Hiccup had had enough of this. Clearing his throat loudly, he stepped out from behind the bookshelves. If he hadn't been feeling so angry, he would have found the sight greeted him funny: every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been petrified by the sight of him, and the colour was draining out of Speedfist's face.

"Hello," said Hiccup. "I'm looking for Hardbottom Thickarm."

The Hufflepuffs' worst fears had clearly been confirmed. They all looked fearfully at Speedfist.

"What do you want with him?" said Speedfist, in a quavering voice.

"Oh, I just want to petrify him," said Hiccup sarcastically. The Hufflepuffs then quickly back away from him and Hiccup rolled his eyes. "I was being sarcastic. I just want to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Duelling Club."

Speedfist bit his white lip and then, taking a deep breath, said, "We were all there. We saw what happened."

"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?" said Hiccup.

"All I saw," said Speedfist stubbornly, though he was trembling as he spoke, "was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake towards Hardbottom."

"I never wanted to hurt Hardbottom," Hiccup said, his voice shaking with anger. "It didn't even _touch_ him."

"It was a very near miss," said Speedfist. "And in case you're getting ideas," he added hastily. "I might tell you that you can trace my clan back nine generations of Vikings and Valkyries and my blood's as pure as anyone's so—"

"Like I care!" said Hiccup fiercely. "Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?"

"I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with," said Speedfist swiftly.

"The Dalsson hate anyone with magic or in their words '_not normal'_," said Hiccup. "I like to see you try and live them for eleven years."

He turned around, but before he left he said, "You can say what you want about me, but don't you dear speak about my father like that again."

He then walked off and stormed out of the library, earning himself a reproving glare from Hairy the Librarian, who was polishing the gilded cover of a large spellbook.

He only left the library for about a minute when he heard some call his name.

"Hiccup! Wait up!" said the voice.

Hiccup stopped and looked around. He was a pretty raven-black haired girl with green eyes running out of the library towards him. The girl hair seemed to have been neatly brushed; it parted to her left in a sort of ponytail that lay over her left shoulder. Her clothing was patched up and there was a wooden horn strapped to her left thigh and on her right hand Hiccup noticed the Ravenclaw tattoo on her wrist.

"Yes, what is it," said Hiccup curiously.

The girl smiled at him and raised her hand and said, "I'm Heather Valha, it's nice to meet you."

"Great meeting you too," said Hiccup shaking her hand.

Heather looked at him curiously and giggled. "You're just as Astrid described," she said.

"Wait, you know Astrid?" said Hiccup stunned.

"We're childhood friends we often play with each other since she has six brothers," Heather said smiling.

"What did you want to talk about?" Hiccup asked feeling uneasy.

"What that you think I'm the one attacking everyone, that I'm the Heir of Slytherin," Hiccup snapped.

"No, actually I was going to say that I don't believe your Slytherin's heir," said Heather calmly.

Hiccup was taken a back and felt guilty of snapping at her. "Sorry," he said.

"It's to be expected," said Heather.

"Hang on; ain't you supposed to be in class?" Hiccup asked.

"Got cancelled," Heather explained. "Flashburn wanted to help Flora with Mandrakes."

Hiccup rolled his eyes, he had a feeling that there were going to be a few less Mandrakes now.

"Anyway, I can't be you, because you, Astrid and Ragnar were at that Deathday party when Fungus was attacked and unless you can pass through solid walls I don't see how you three got to point A to point B." Hiccup was about to ask how she knew that, but she saw this question coming. "Astrid told me. Anyway, you were in the heal centre when Gustav was attacked and I would be impossible for you use your magic with your sword arm in a sling."

Hiccup was feeling happy that he found someone that believed him. The two of them walked down the corridor as they talked.

"Also if you were the Heir of Slytherin you would be in Slytherin," she continued. Hiccup didn't had the heart to tell her what the Sorting Helmet had said to him. "Also you won't be friends with Ragnar, who is a Muggle-born."

When she mentioned Ragnar's name, Hiccup noticed that she blushed a bit, but shrugged it up.

"I wish more people believed me," he said sadly.

"They're just scared and they want someone to blame, soon they'll realise their mistake," Heather assured. "Besides this speculation works to the true Heir of Slytherin's advantage."

They turned a corner and bumped into Gobber, who was carrying a tool chest.

"Oh, yeah Gobber," Hiccup said, looking up at him.

"All righ', Hiccup?" he said, smiling. "How she and how come yeh not in class?"

"Oh, this is Heather and mu class was cancelled," said Hiccup.

"Same here," said Heather.

"What're you doing in here?" Hiccup asked.

"Ah, the dragons have been acting funny an' I just been told by the headmaster to put some restraints on them so they don't hurt anyone."

Hiccup remembered that the last him he saw Toothless; he was acting funny as if he heard something he didn't like.

"I'd better go, I've got Potions next," Heather groaned.

"Yeah, and I need to get my books on Transfiguration," said Hiccup.

With that they went their separate ways. Hiccup walked up the stairs and turned a corridor, which was particularly dark; the torched had been extinguished by a strong, icy draught which was blowing through a loose window pane. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something on the floor.

He turned to squint at what he'd fallen over, and felt as though his stomach had dissolved.

Hardbottom Highhat was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Hiccup had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Njal, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Hardbottom's

Hiccup got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart doing a kind of drum-roll against his ribs. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and wondering what to do. Should he run before someone found him or get help. Would anyone believe him hadn't had anything to do with this?

As he stood there, panicking, a door right next to him opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out.

"Why, it's Hideous Haddock!" cackled Peeves, knocking Hiccup to the ground as he bounced past him. "What's Haddock up to? Why's Haddock lurking—"

Peeves stopped, halfway through a mid-air somersault. Upside down spotted Hardbottom and Nearly Headless Njal. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Hiccup could stop him, screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAACK!"

Door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Hardbottom was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Njal.

"Great, just perfected," Hiccup moaned.

Things then got worse as Phlegma the Furious came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black and white striped hair. She used her axe to create a small explosion, which restored silence, and order everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat that Speedfist arrived, panting, on the scene.

"_Caught in the act_!" Speedfist yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Hiccup.

"That will do, Boilson!" said Phlegma sharply.

Hardbottom was carried by Speedfist and Sinistra the Astrologer to the healing centre being followed by Flitwick, who was using Wind Magic to blow Nearly Headless Njal like he was a black hovercraft. This left Hiccup and Phlegma alone together.

"This way, Hiccup," she said.

"But ma'am," said Hiccup at once, "I swear I didn't—"

"This is out of my hands, Hiccup," said Phlegma sadly.

They marched in silence out of the mountain and walked into the small village of house. They didn't do every far, in fact they stood at the biggest house of them all that stood just a few feet away from the mountain overlooking the small village of house in front of it.

"Sherbert lemon!" Phlegma said.

The door of the house seemed unlocked and swung open, and Hiccup noticed for the first time that the brass knocker was the shape of a Monstrous Nightmare.

This new bit of knowledge told where Phlegma had taken him. He was taken to where Heyral the Wise livid.


	12. The Polyjuice Potion

Hiccup entered inside and looked at Phlegma expecting her to come in with him. Instead she told him to wait inside and closed the door leaving him there alone.

Hiccup looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers' houses Hiccup had visited so far this year, Heyral's was by far the most interesting. If he hadn't been scared out of his wits that he was about to be thrown out of the academy, he would have been very pleased to have a chance to look around it.

There were two floors; Hiccup guessed the top floor was a bedroom. The ground floor was full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting the little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with shield portraits of old headmasters and mistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames, or at least that what it seem, Hiccup noticed that a portrait of large Viking, who looked a lot like his father staring at him from the corner of his eye.

Hiccup then noticed something that got his interest. There sitting on an enormous, claw-footed desk, sat there was a dented, cracked Viking helmet—the _Sorting Helmet_.

Hiccup hesitated. He cast a wary eye around the sleeping Vikings and Valkyries in the walls. Surely it couldn't hurt if he took the helmet down and tried it on again? Just to see…just to make sure it _had_ put him in the right house.

He walked quietly around the desk, lifted the helmet from its shelf, and lowered it slowly onto his head. It was much larger and slipped down over his eyes, just as it had done the last time he'd put it on. Hiccup stared at the black inside of his helmet, waiting. Then a small voice said in his ear, "Bee in your bonnet, Hiccup Haddock?"

"Uh, yes," Hiccup muttered. "Uh—sorry to bother you—I wanted to ask—"

"You've been wondering whether I put you in the right house," said the helmet smartly. "Yes…you were particularly difficult to place, hard than anyone who I sorted before. But I stand by what I said before—" Hiccup's hear leapt "—you _would_ have done well in Slytherin."

Hiccup's stomach plummeted. He grabbed the point of the helmet and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. Hiccup pushed it back onto its shelf, feeling sick.

"You're wrong," he said aloud, to the still and silent helmet. It didn't move. Hiccup backed away, watching it. Then a strange, gagging noise behind him made him wheel around.

He wasn't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking dragon which looked like a cross between a Terrible Terror and a Deadly Nadder. Hiccup stared at the dragon and the dragon looked balefully back, staring at him in interest. Hiccup had read through the Book of Dragon cover to cover, but he didn't recognise this dragon at all, but when he got a closer look at it he noticed that it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Hiccup watched, a couple of scales began to lose their burning red colour and began to fall off.

Hiccup was just thinking that all he needed was for Heyral's dragon to die while he was alone in the house with it, when the dragon burst into flames.

Hiccup yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. He looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere, but couldn't see one. He tried to absorb the flames, but they didn't respond to his commands. The dragon then became a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but smouldering pile of ash on the floor.

"Great," Hiccup groaned, "can this day get any worse?"

His answer was soon answered, because Heyral came in, looking very somber.

"I had to say it," Hiccup moaned. "Sir, your dragon—I couldn't do anything—he just caught fire—"

To Hiccup's astonishment, Heyral smiled.

"Ah, about time, too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days, it's a pity you had to see him on a Burning Day."

He chuckled at the stunned look on Hiccup's face.

"Fawkes is a rare kind of dragon called a Burning Blazer, Hiccup. A Burning Blazer burst into flames when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes for that reason it is a Mystery class dragon and not a Stoker class. Watch him…"

Hiccup looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, new-born dragon poke its head out of the ashes. Instead of having red scales it had ash-black ones and it wasn't the most attractive dragon in the world.

"How come I didn't recognise him from my Book of Dragon book?" Hiccup asked confused.

"Ah, you've only got the first edition which was made my Bork the Bold about three hundred years ago," Heyral explained, seating himself behind his desk. "You see Bork's family have been writing new edition every generation putting in newly discovered dragon and changes. In fact Gobber should be polishing his own book soon." Hiccup eyes widened. "Yes Hiccup, Gobber is Bork's great-great-great-grandson."

In shock of Fawkes catching fire and leaning about Gobber's heritage, Hiccup had forgotten what he was there for, but it all came back to him as Heyral settled himself in the high-backed chair behind the desk and fixed Hiccup with his penetrating, light blue stare.

Before Heyral could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Gobber burst in, a wild look in his eyes still holding his tool kit.

"It wasn' Hiccup, Heyral!" said Gobber urgently. "I was talking' ter him _seconds_ before the kid was found, he never had time, sir…"

"Gobber—" said Heyral calmly, but Gobber kept on ranting on.

"…He was with girl called Heather, she can confirm it, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to…"

"Gobber, I—"

"…Yeh've got the wrong person, sir, I _know_ Hiccup never—"

"_Gobber_!" said Heyral loudly, "I do _not_ think that Hiccup attacked those people."

"O' course yeh don't—" Gobber stopped and looked slightly embarrassed. "Oh, right. I'll just wait outside then."

And he stomped out still with an embarrassed look on his face.

"You don't think it was me, sir," Hiccup repeated hopefully.

"No, Hiccup, I don't," said Heyral, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to you."

Hiccup waited nervously while Heyral considered him, placing his one good hand over his axe prosthetic.

"I must ask you, Hiccup, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said gently. "Anything at all."

Hiccup didn't know what to say. He thought of Snotlout shouting, "You'll be nexted, Mudbloods!" and of the Polyjuice potion, simmering away in Moaing Myrtle's bathroom. Then he thought of the disembodied voice he had heard twice and remembered what Astrid had said: "_Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the Viking world_." He thought, too, about what everyone was saying about him, and his growing dread that he was somehow connected with Slytherin the Cunning…

"No," said Hiccup, "There isn't anything, sir."

The double attack on Hardbottom and Nearly Headless Njal turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Njal's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost, people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There almost a stampede to book seats on the Berk Express so that students could go home for Snoggletog.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Astrid told Hiccup and Ragnar. "Us, Snotlout, Dogsbreath and Clueless. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

Dogsbreath and Clueless, who always did whatever Snotlout did, had signed up to stay over the holidays too. But Hiccup was glad that most people were leaving. He was tired of people skirting around him in the corridors, as though he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing and hissing as he passed.

Double and Trouble, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Hiccup down the corridors, shouting, "Make way of the Heir of Slytherin, seriously bad Viking coming through…"

Sven was deeply disapproving of this behaviour.

"It is _not_ a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Sven," said Double. "Hiccup's in a hurry."

"Yeah, he's nipping off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of coffee with his fanged servant," said Trouble, chortling.

Ripper didn't find it amusing either.

"Oh, _don't_," she wailed every time Double asked Hiccup loudly who he was planning to attack next, or Trouble pretending to ward Hiccup off with a large piece of iron when they met.

Hiccup didn't mind; it made him feel better that Double and Trouble, at least, thought the idea of his being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Snotlout, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.

"It's because he's _bursting_ to say it's really him," said Astrid knowingly. "You know he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you're getting all the credit for his dirty work."

"Not for long," said Ragnar in a satisfied tone. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready. We'll be getting the truth out of him any day now."

* * *

><p>At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Hiccup found it peaceful, rather than gloomy even with all the dragons gone, and enjoyed the fact he, Ragnar and the Hoffersons had the run of the Gryffindor common room, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice duelling in private. Double, Trouble and Ripper had chosen to stay at the academy rather than visit Bjorn in the Barbaric Archipelago with Mr and Miss Hofferson. Sven, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behaviour, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room. He had already told them pompously that <em>he<em> was only staying over Snoggletog because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time.

Snoggletog morning dawned, cold and white. Hiccup and Ragnar, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Astrid, who burst in, fully dress, including the hand-knitted jumper that Miss Hofferson sent her, and carrying presents for them both.

"Wake up," she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.

"Astrid, you could give us a bit of warn," Ragnar muttered.

"Happy Snoggletog to you, too," said Astrid, throwing him his present. "I just want to know is the potion is ready."

"It should be ready after I put a few more lacewings in it."

Hiccup sat up, suddenly awake.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Ragnar getting out of his bed. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

Hiccup started opening his presents. The Dalssons had sent Hiccup a toothpick and a note telling him to find out whether he'd be able to stay at Berk for the summer holidays.

"They spend no expense on you do they," Astrid noted.

The rest of Hiccup Snoggletog presents were far more satisfactory. Gobber had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Hiccup decided to soften by using his Fire Magic before eating; Astrid had given him a book called _The Fearsome Harpies_, a book of interesting facts about her favourite Dragon Racing team; and Ragnar had bought him a luxury eagle-feather quill. Hiccup opened the last present to find a new, hand-knitted jumper from Mrs Hofferson and a large plum cake. He put up her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about Mr Hofferson car, which hadn't been seen since its crash with the Whomping Willow, and the bout of rule-breaking he and Astrid were planning.

* * *

><p>No one, not even someone dreading taking Polyjuice Potion later, could fail to enjoy Snoggletog dinner at Berk.<p>

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Snoggletog tress and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe criss-crossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Heyral led them in a few of favourite Snoggletog songs, Gobber booming more and more loudly with every goblet of mead he consumed. Sven, who hadn't noticed that Double had bewitched his Prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead", kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Hiccup didn't even care that Snotlout was making loud, snide remarks about his new jumper from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Snotlout would be getting his come-uppance in a few hours' time.

Hiccup and Astrid had barley finished their third helping of Snoggletog pudding when Ragnar ushered them out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the people we're changing into," said Ragnar matter-of-factly, as though he was sending them to the supermarket for washing-powder. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Dogsbreath and Clueless; they're Snotlout's best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the rule Dogsbreath and Clueless can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him."

"And how are we going to do that?" Astrid asked, crossing her arms.

"I've got it all worked out," he said and pulled out two plump chocolate cakes. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. Simple, but powerful. All you have to do is pull out a few of their hairs for Hiccup and me and hide them in a cupboard."

"Hang on," said Hiccup. "What about Astrid."

"I've already got my hairs," said Astrid proudly, and Ragnar pulled a tiny bottle out of his pocket and showing Hiccup them the single hair inside it. "Remember the duel I had with Helly Thickarm at the Duelling Club? Luck for me one of her hairs landed on my shirt when I was pulling her hair out."

"She gone home for Snoggletog—so Astrid just have to tell the Slytherins that she decided to come back," said Ragnar. He then got up. "I'm going to check on the Polyjuice Potion. Just make sure they find those cakes."

When Ragnar had walked off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Hiccup turned to Astrid with a doom-laden expression.

"I have a feeling this plan is going to go wrong," he said.

* * *

><p>Moment later, Hiccup and Astrid were outside in the Entrance Hall hiding behind a statue. They had just placed the chocolate cakes on the floor and Astrid pulled out her axe ready to perform a bit of Wind Magic, but Hiccup stopped her.<p>

"I think I better do it," Hiccup reminded.

Astrid looked at the cracked crystal eye and nodded in agreement.

Lucky for them that Flitwick had begun to teach them about Wind Magic telling them that there are certain types of Core Magic that Vikings and Valkyries can do and luckily Hiccup was able to do Wind Magic. He pulled his sword out and sent a small gust of wind to have the cakes float in mid-air.

Soon enough Dogsbreath and Clueless came out of the Great Hall carrying an enough cakes to have a banquet. The moment they saw the floating cakes they walked up to them and grinned stupidly, apparently they didn't think it was odd to find two floating chocolate cakes in the middle of the Entrance Hall, and eat them. A second later they both keeled over backwards onto the floor still with greedy looks on their faces.

"How dumb can you get?" said Astrid in disbelief.

"What's that saying ignorance is bliss?" said Hiccup.

It was way harder to hide them in the cupboard across the hall. Once they were safely stowed amongst the buckets and mops, Hiccup yanked out a couple of the bristles that covered Clueless' forehead and Astrid pulled out several of Dogsbreath's hairs for Ragnar, though with a disgusting look on her face. They also stole their shoes, because Hiccup and Ragnar's were far too small for Dogsbreath and Clueless-sized feet. Then the two of them sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

They could hardly see for the thick black smoke issuing from the cubicle in which Ragnar was stirring the cauldron. Putting their hands over their faces, Hiccup and Astrid knocked softly on the door.

"Ragnar?"

They heard the scrape of the lock and Ragnar emerged looking anxious. Behind him they heard the _gloop gloop_ of the bubbling, treacle-thick potion. Three glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat.

"Did you get them?" Ragnar asked breathlessly.

Hiccup showed him Clueless' hairs.

"And next time you can pick your own hairs out," said Astrid angrily, as she gave Ragnar Dogsbreath's hairs and he gave her Thickarm's.

"Then you can get their spare cloths out of the laundry," Ragnar said, holding up a small sack. "We'll need bigger sizes once we become Dogsbreath and Clueless."

The three of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.

"Is it supposed to look like that?" Astrid asked in a disgusting tone.

"I admit, it doesn't look appetising," said Ragnar, nervously re-reading the splotched page of _Moste Potente Potions_, "but it looks like the book says it should… once we're drunk it, we'll have exactly and hour before we change back into ourselves and not a second over."

"Now what?" Astrid whispered.

"We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs."

Ragnar ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, his hand trembling, he added Dogsbreath's hair into the first glass.

The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a dark, murky brown.

"Urgh—essence of Dogsbreath," said Astrid eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."

"Add yours, then," said Ragnar.

Hiccup dropped Clueless' hair into the middle glass and Astrid shook Helly Thickarm's hair out of its bottle into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Clueless turned the khaki colour if a bogey, Thickarm's a sick sort of yellow.

"Hang on," said Hiccup, as Astrid and Ragnar reached for their glasses. "We'd better not all drink them in here: once we turn into Dogsbreath and Clueless we won't fit. And Helly Thickarm's no fairly.

"Good point," said Astrid, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate cubicles."

Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice potion, Hiccup slipped into the middle cunicle.

"Ready?" he called.

"Ready," came Astrid and Ragnar's voices.

"Then cheers."

Pinching his nose, Hiccup drank the potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.

Immediately, his insides started writhing as though he'd just swallowed live snakes—doubled up, he wondered whether he was going to be sick—then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his fingers and toes. Next, bringing him gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over his body bubbled like hot wax, and before his eyes, his hands began to grow, the fingers thickened, the nails broadened and the knuckles were bulging like bolts. His shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down towards his eyebrows; his shirt ripped as his chest expanded like barrel bursting its hoops; his feet were agony in shoes four sizes too small, his Gryffindor tattoo faded and felt something burn on his neck as a Slytherin one began to appear…

As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Hiccup lay face down on the cold stone floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the end toilet. With difficulty, he kicked off his shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like, being Clueless. His large hand trembling, he pulled off his old clothes, which were hanging a foot above his ankles, pulled on the spare ones and laced up Clueless' boat-like shoes. He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and met only the growth of wiry bristles, low on his forehead. He then called out to the others, "Are you two okay?" Clueless' low rasp of a voice issued from his mouth.

"Yeah," came the deep grunt of Dogsbreath from his right.

Hiccup unlocked his door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Clueless stared back at him out of dull, deepset eyes. Hiccup scratched his ear. So did Clueless.

"Ragnar's door opened. They stared at each other. Except that he looked pale and shocked, Ragnar was indistinguishable from Dogsbreath, from the pudding-basin haircut to the long, gorilla arms.

"At least we know the potion worked," said Ragnar, looking at the mirror and prodding Dogsbreath's flat nose. "Good thing the mirror is cracked or Dogsbreath's face could have cracked."

"We'd better get going," said Hiccup, loosening the watch that was cutting into Clueless' thick wrist. "We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is, I only hope we can find someone to follow…"

Ragnar, who had been gazing at Hiccup, said, "You know I've seen Clueless think before and its creping me out." He banged on Astrid's door. "Come one, we need to go…"

A high-pitched voice answered him. "I—I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."

"Astrid, are you all right?" Hiccup said worried.

"Forget about me and go, you're wasting time," Astrid reminded them.

Hiccup looked at Ragnar, bewildered.

"That's more like it," said Ragnar. "That's how Clueless looks every time a teacher asks him a question."

"Astrid, are sure you're okay?" Hiccup asked through the door.

"Fine—I'm fine… Go on—"

Hiccup looked at his watch. Five of their precious sixty minutes had already passed.

"We'll meet you back here, all right?" he said.

Hiccup and Ragnar opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear and set off.

"Don't swing your arms like that," Hiccup muttered to Ragnar.

"Pardon?"

"Dogsbreath holds them sort of still…"

"How's this?"

"Yeah, that's better."

They went down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin that they could follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around.

"We probably should have found out where the Slytherin common room before taking the potion," Hiccup muttered.

"Well, the Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there," said Ragnar, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had barely left his mouth when a girl with long curly hair emerged from the entrance.

"Excuse me," said Ragna, hurrying up to her, "we've forgotten the way to the Slytherin common room I don't suppose you know where it is."

"And why would I know where _your_ common is?" said the girl stiffly. "_I'm_ a Ravenclaw."

She walked away, looking suspiciously back at them.

"Please tell me that wasn't that Heather girl you told me about," said Ragnar.

"It wasn't," Hiccup assured.

Hiccup and Ragnar hurried down the stone steps into the darkness, their footsteps echoing particularly loudly as Dogsbreath and Clueless' huge feet hit the floor, feeling that this wasn't going to be easy as they had hoped.

The labyrinthine passages were deserted. They walked deeper and deeper under the school, constantly checking their watches to see how much time they had left. After a quarter of an hour, just when they getting desperate, they heard a sudden movement ahead.

"I hope that's a Slytherin," Ragnar hoped.

It wasn't. The figure that emerged from the side room was in fact Sven.

"What're you doing down here?" said Ragnar in surprise.

Sven looked affronted.

"That," he said stiffly, "is none of your business. It's Dogsbreath, isn't it?"

"Yeah, what's it to you," said Ragnar.

"Just get off to your dormitories," said Sven sternly. "It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days."

"_You_ are," Ragnar pointed out.

"I," said Sven, drawing himself up, "am a Prefect. Nothing's about to attack _me_."

"Dogsbreath! Clueless!" A voice said behind them.

They looked around and saw Snotlout strolling towards them, and for the first time in his life, Hiccup was pleased to see him.

"There you are," he said, glaring at them. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you two; I want to show you something really funny."

Snotlout glanced witheringly at Sven.

"And what're you doing here, Hofferson?" he sneered.

Sven looked outraged.

"You want to show a bit more respect to an academy prefect!" he said, "I don't like your attitude to me and my sister!"

Snotlout sneered and motioned Hiccup and Ragnar to follow him. Hiccup almost said something apologetic to Sven but caught himself just in time. He and Ragnar hurried after Snotlout, who as they turned into the next passage, "That Sam Hofferson—"

"Sven," Ragnar corrected him automatically.

"Whatever," said Snotlout, "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed. Like anyone in the Hofferson clan could."

He gave a short, derisive laugh. Hiccup and Ragnar exchanged excited looks.

Snotlout paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"What's the new passwords again?" he said to Hiccup.

"Uh—" said Hiccup.

"Oh, yeah—_pure-blood_!" said Snotlout, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Snotlout marched through it and Hiccup and Ragnar followed him.

"The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish torched were hanging on chains. A fire crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

"Wait here," said Snotlout to Hiccup and Ragnar, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it—my dad's just sent it to me—"

Wondering what Snotlout was going to show them, Hiccup and Ragnar sat down, doing their best to look at home.

Snotlout came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper cutting. He thrust it under Hiccup's nose.

"That'll give you a laugh," he said.

Hiccup's eyes widen in shock. Ragnar leaned over to get a good look at shared Hiccup shared expression, but quickly then gave a forced laugh. It had been clipped out of the _Daily Prophet_, and it said:

_ENQUIRY AT THE Ministry OF MAGIC_

_Arnbjorn the Tinker, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for beitching a Muggle car._

_Spitelout the Stern, a governor of the Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries, where the enchated car crash earlier this year, called for Arnbjorn's resignation._

"_Hofferson has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Spitelout told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."_

_Arnbjorn the Tinker was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set their dragons and the family ghoul on them._

"Well?" said impatiently, as Hiccup handed the cutting back to him, "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Hiccup and Ragnar bleakly.

"Arnbjorn the Tinker loves Muggles so much he should crush his crystal eye and join them," said Snotlout scornfully. "You'd never know the Hoffersons were pure-bloods, the way they behave. There an embarrassment to the Viking name. All of them. Well, apart from that Astrid, if only she could see thing my way."

Hiccup was having a hard time keeping his cool, unfortunately Snotlout noticed this.

"What's up with you, Clueless?" snapped Snotlout.

"Stomach ache," Hiccup lied.

"Well, go up to the healing centre and give all those Mudbloods a kick for me," said Snotlout, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the _Daily Prophet_ hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Heyral's trying to keep it quiet. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Dad's always said Heyral's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never let slime like that Gustav Larson. I mean he can't even see a true Viking when he sees one."

"You're wrong!" Hiccup yelled, unable to stop himself.

Snotlout glared at him, got up and marched up to him at his full high, though he was a foot short than Clueless. Ragnar looked at Hiccup nervously worried that there cover had been blown.

"What?!" Snotlout snapped. "You think there is someone worse than Heyral!"

Hiccup had to think fast, but luckily he got the perfect someone in mind and looked at Snotlout and said, "Hiccup Haddock?"

Snotlout looked at Hiccup and nodded. "Good one, Clueless. Your right for once," he said sitting back in his chair.

Both Hiccup and Ragnar looked relived.

"The great Hiccup Haddock, the Mudbloods' friend," he said slowly. "He's not only not acting the way a Viking should being friends to people like Ragnar Keatson, but he brainwashed Astrid. And people think _he's_ Slytherin's heir!"

Hiccup and Ragnar waited with bated breath: Snotlout was surely seconds from telling them it was him. But then—

"I _wish_ I knew who it _is_," said Snotlout petulantly. "I could help them."

Ragnar looked disappointed making Dogsbreath look even more gormless than usual. Fortunately, Snotlout didn't notice, and Ragnar said, "You must have some idea who's behind it all…"

"You know I haven't, Dogsbreath, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Snotlout. "And my dad won't tell me _anything_ about the last time the Chamber was opened, wither. Of course, it was twenty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says it that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing: last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, at the same time that Haddock's Mudblood was petrified, another Mudblood _died. _So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them is killed this time… I hope it's Keatson," he said with relish.

Hiccup was clenching Clueless' gigantic fists. Ragnar could see that Hiccup's was at hid limit, he shot him a warning look and said, "Do you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"

"Oh, yeah… whoever it was expelled," said Snotlout. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" said Hiccup, puzzled.

"Azkaban—_the Viking prison_, Clueless," said Snotlout, looking at him in disbelief. "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backwards."

He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Dad says to keep my head down and let the heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the academy needs ridding of all the Mudbloods filth, but not to get mixed up in it. But I mean why wouldn't the heir want my help. There again, dad's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our Manor last week?"

Hiccup tried to force Clueless' dull face into a look of concern.

"Yeah…" said Snotlout. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Dad's got some _very_ valuable Dark Magic stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing room floor—"

Hiccup and Ragnar looked at each other smirking. However, a second later Hiccup saw that Dogsbreath's black hair changing brown. His fat nose was also getting smaller—their hour was up. Ragnar was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly giving Hiccup, he must be, too.

They jumped to their feet.

"I need to get medicine for my stomach," Hiccup grunted, and without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Snotlout didn't think something was odd. Hiccup could feel his feet slipping around in Clueless' huge shoes and had to hoist his trouser legs up as he shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the cupboard where they'd locked Dogsbreath and Clueless. Leaving their shoes outside the cupboard door, they sprinted in their bare feet up the cold marble staircase towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Pity Astrid didn't come," Ragnar panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I bet once we tell her, she'll rush off to write a later saying to her dad to check under the Jorgensons' drawing room and once the dragons return she'll send it."

"Well, let's tell her the other stuff we found out," said Hiccup as he hammered on the door of Astrid's cubicle. "Astrid, come out, we've got loads to tell you—"

"Go away!" Astrid squeaked.

Hiccup and Ragnar looked at each other. They never heard Astrid sound anything like this before.

"What's the matter?" said Ragnar. "You back to normal I mean we are…"

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the cubicle door. Hiccup had never seen her look so happy.

"Ooooooh, wait til you see," she said. "It's _awful_!"

They heard the lock slide back and Astrid emerged and the both of them just stared eyes widened.

"Ragnar you remember when you told us that the potion was only supposed to be used for human transformations," Astrid said.

She was covered in black fur. Her eyes had gone yellow and there were long pointed ears poking through her hair.

"Turns out that Helly Thickarm isn't as pure-blooded as she being made out," she said angrily. "A member of her family must have a cat, because that hair I took from belonged to a cat." She looked at the two of them and looked away. "Look at my face."

"Look at you tail," Moaning Myrtle giggled.

Ragnar looked slightly guilty. No doubt he blamed himself, because using Polyjuice Potion was his idea. He looked at her and said, "If it makes you feel any better we know the Jorgensons' all the Dark Magic stuff in a secret room in their drawing room."

Hiccup grabbed her claw like hand and looked at her yellow eyes and said, "It's okay, Astrid. We'll take you to the healing centre. Flora never asks too many questions…"

She looked at him and gave him a weak smile and walked out of her cubicle as they made their way to the healing centre.


	13. The Very Secret Diary

Astrid remained in the healing centre for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumour about her disappearance when the rest of the academy arrived back from their Snoggletog holidays, because people believed that she had been attacked despite the fact that she was a pure-blood. So many students filed past the healing centre trying to catch a glimpse of her Flora took out her curtains again and placed them around Astrid's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face.

Hiccup and Ragnar went to visit her every evening. When the dragons had turned they had sent Sharpshot with her little telling Mr Hofferson to check the Jorgensons' drawing room next time he raids them.

"We sent that letter to your dad," said Ragnar. "I also mentioned that you found out over hearing Snotlout talk to Dogsbreath and Clueless."

"Not a total lie, but I hope he gets them," said Astrid hopefully. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to blue. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in a whisper, so that Flora couldn't hear her.

"Nothing," said Hiccup gloomily.

"I was so _sure_ it was Snotlout," said Astrid, for about the hundredth time.

"What's that?" asked Hiccup, pointing to something gold that was sticking out from under Astrid's pillow.

"Just a Get Well card," said Astrid hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ragnar was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open and read aloud:

"_To Miss Hodderson, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Flashburn the Flashmaster, Order of Haddock Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Valkyrie Weekly's Most-Charming Smile Award._"

Ragnar looked up at Astrid, disgusted.

"You sleep with this under your _pillow_?"

But Astrid was spared answering by Flora sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.

"Is Flashburn the smarmiest Viking you've ever met, or what?" Ragnar said to Hiccup, who was feeling slightly jealousy of Flashburn, as they entered mountain and started up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. Grabbit had given them so much homework, Hiccup thought he was likely to be in the sixth year before he finished it. Luckily having Ragnar for friend helped enormously, he could tell him how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a Hair Rising potion or how long you need the potion to boil. Then they heard an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.

"That's Mildew," Hiccup muttered, as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ragnar tensely.

They stood still, their heads inclined towards Mildew's voice, which sounded quite hysterical.

"…_even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Heyral…_"

His footsteps receded and they heard a distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corner. Mildew had clearly been manning his usual look-out post: they were once again on the spot where Fungus had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Mildew was shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now Mildew had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"_Now_ what's up with her?" said Ragnar.

"Let's go and see," said Hiccup, and they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its Out of Order sign, ignored it as always, and entered.

Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom, because the touches had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's up, Myrtle?" said Hiccup.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me."

Hiccup waded across to her cubicle and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…"

"But it can't hurt if someone throws something at you," said Hiccup reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through toy, wouldn't it?"

He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because _she_ can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha ha ha! What a lovely game, I _don't_ think!"

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Hiccup.

"_I_ don't know… I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "There was only one person who was ever nice to me living or dead and now she's gone."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Hiccup. "What was her name?"

"Valka Evson or as people used to call her Valka the Gentle," said Myrtle tearfully.

"Wait, that's my mum," said Hiccup.

Upon hearing this Myrtle zoomed towards Hiccup and looked at him closely, which made him feel very nervous. Myrtle then pulled back her eyes wide open.

"You look just like her," said Myrtle.

Ragnar then gave out a little cough and the two of them looked at him. "Sorry to make this up, but where is this book you were talking about?" he asked.

"Oh, it's over there, it goy washed out," said Myrtle pointing

Hiccup was glad to get away from Myrtle, so he and Ragnar looked under the sink, where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin black book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Hiccup stepped forward to pick it up, but Ragnar suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.

"What?" said Hiccup.

"Don't touch that book," said Ragnar. "It could be dangerous."

"_Dangerous?_" said Hiccup, laughing. "Come on, how could it be dangerous?"

"I don't know," said Ragnar, who was looking apprehensively at the book. "It's just I sense something funny about it. I don't know how I can explain it, but it's like I can sense it's alive your something."

"How can a book be alive?" said Hiccup sceptically.

The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy.

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," he said, and he ducked round Ragnar and picked it off the floor.

Hiccup saw at once that is was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was twenty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name "T. G. Sidduvb" in smudged ink.

"Found anything?" Ragnar asked.

Hiccup peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them.

"He never wrote in it," said Hiccup, disappointed.

"So, he bought that book, but never wrote in it," said Ragnar eyeing the book interest.

Hiccup turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a newsagents in Vauxhall Road, London.

"He must've been Muggle-born," said Hiccup thoughtfully, "to have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road…"

"I wonder how threw it away," said Ragnar.

Hiccup looked at the book and asked himself the same question.

* * *

><p>Astrid left the healing centre, de-whiskered, tail-less and fur-free, at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in the Gryffindor common room, Hiccup showed her T. G. Sidduvb's diary and told her the story of how they found it.<p>

"Wait a minute," said Astrid, taking the book from Hiccup. "That name rings a bell… I've got it T. G. Sidduvb got an award for special services to the academy twenty years ago."

"How on Midgard do you know that?" said Ragnar in amazement.

"Don't you remember that I had to polish all those trophies when I was doing detention?" said Astrid hotly. "Anyway, I remember that one because that the one I scorched when I suffered my final shock attack."

Hiccup noticed that Ragnar eyeing the book with great detail. Hiccup had a feeling that he had come up with the same conclusion that he was thinking.

"What?" said Astrid, looking from one to the other.

"Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened twenty years ago, wasn't it?" he said. "That's what Snotlout said."

"Yeah…" said Astrid slowly.

"And _this diary _is twenty years old," said Ragnar taking the book from her.

"What are you getting at?" said Astrid.

"Isn't it obvious," Ragnar said rolling his eyes. "We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled _twenty years ago_. We know T. G. Sidduvb got an award for special services to the academy _twenty years ago_. Well, what if Sidduvb got his special award for _catching the Heir of Slytherin_? His diary would probably tell us everything: where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it. The person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, wouldn't they?"

"So, they tossed it in Moaning Myrtle's toilet to get rid of it," Astrid finished. "That's a _brilliant _theory."

"Of course, there is one problem," said Hiccup, "he never wrote anything it the diary."

"He could have written it in invisible ink or placed an enchantment on it," said Ragnar and placed his hand over the cover and I glowed bright blue. "Reveal your secrets."

Once his hand stopped glowing they looked at "January the first", but saw nothing.

"It would seem that Sidduvb didn't write in it," said Astrid disappointedly. "He must have got it for Snoggletog and decide not to write in it."

Hiccup wasn't so sure and judging from the look on Ragnar's face he didn't seem so certain either.

* * *

><p>Hiccup couldn't explain, even to himself, why he didn't just throw Sidduvb's diary away. He guess it was what Ragnar said about it being alive, though he couldn't see how that was possible, but Hiccup always picking it up and turn the pages, as though it was a story he wanted to finish. And while Hiccup was sure he had never heard the name T. G. Sidduvb before, it seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Sidduvb was a friend he'd had when he was very small, and half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He'd never had friends before Berk, Olaf had made sure of that.<p>

Nevertheless, Hiccup was determined to find out more about Sidduvb, so next day at break, he headed for the trophy-room to examine Sidduvb's special award, accompanied by an interested Ragnar and a thoroughly unconvinced Astrid, who told them she's seen enough of the trophy-room to last her a lifetime.

Sidduvb's burnished gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It didn't carry details of why it had been given to him ("Good thing too, or it's be even bigger and I's still be polishing it," said Astrid). However, they did find Sidduvb's name on an old Medal for Magical Merit, and on a list of old Head Boys.

"He sounds like Sven," said Astrid, looking disgusted. "Prefect, Head Boy—probably top of every class."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Ragnar, in a slightly hurt voice.

* * *

><p>The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Berk again. Inside the mountain, the mood had grown hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Hardbottom and Nearly Headless Njal, and Flora was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that there were fast leaving childhood.<p>

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for re-potting again," Hiccup heard her telling Mildew kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Fungus back in no time.

Perhaps the heir of Slyhterin had lost his or her nerve, thought Hiccup. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets, with the academy so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the dragon, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another twenty years…

Speedfist of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view. He was still convinced that Hiccup was the guilty one, that he had "given himself away" at the Duelling Club.

Flashburn seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Hiccup overhead him telling Phlegma so while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Phlegma," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught them. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on them."

"You know, what the academy needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…"

He tapped his nose again and strode off.

Flashburn's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February the fourteenth. Hiccup hadn't had much sleep because of a late-running Dragon Racing practice the night before, and he hurried don to the Great Hall slightly late. He thought, for a moment, they he'd walked through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Hiccup went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ragnar was sitting looked sickened, and Astrid, surprisingly, seemed to have come over rather giggly.

"What's going on?" Hiccup asked them, sitting down, and wiping confetti off his bacon. "It looks as if Barby has invaded Berk."

Astrid obviously didn't get the reference, but Ragnar got loud and clear. He pointed at the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Flashburn, wearing lurid pink cape to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Hiccup could see a muscle going in Phlegma's cheek; he was quite surprised that she hadn't exploded. Grabbit looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Freyja's Day!" Flashburn shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all—and it doesn't end here!"

Flashburn clapped his hands and through the doors to the outside flew in fairies. The fairies were about the same size of a normal dwarf and all of them were wearing the same golden dress and carried harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying fairies!" beamed Flashburn. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your Freyjas! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirt of the occasion! Why not ask Grabbit to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any Viking I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Grabbit was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

"Please, Astrid, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six," said Hiccup, as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Astrid suddenly became very interested in searching her satchel for her timetable and didn't answer.

All day long, the fairies kept barging into their classes to deliver Freyjas, to the annoyance of the teachers, and later that afternoon, as the Gryffindors were walking upstairs for Charms, one of them caught up with Hiccup.

"Hey, there Hiccup Haddock," said a fairy with blond hair, as she floated over people to get to Hiccup.

Not all over at thought of being given a Freyjas in front of a queue of first years, which happened to include Ripper, Hiccup tried to escape. The fairy, however, flew over people's heads, and reached him before he'd gone tow paces.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to Hiccup Haddock in person," he said, twanging her harp in a majestic sort of way.

"_Not here,_" Hiccup hissed, trying to escape.

"Stay _still_!" ordered the fairy. She was now not as sweet and innocent as Hiccup thought, because she used some Wing Magic to lift him off the ground.

"Let me go!" Hiccup snarled, trying to free himself from the wind.

Suddenly all his books, parchment and quill spilled out of his satchel and landed on the floor and his ink bottle smashed over the lot.

Hiccup scrambled around, trying to get out of Wind Magic that was keeping him up loft before the fairy could singing, causing something of a hold-up in the corridor.

"What's going on here?" came the cold, drawling voice of Snotlout. Hiccup started squirming around even more, desperate to get away before Snotlout could hear his musical Freyjas.

"What's all this commotion?" said another familiar voice, as Sven Hofferson arrived.

"Right," she said flying up to him, "Here is your singing Freyjas."

_His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toad,_

_He rides a dragon as dark as a blackboard._

_I wish he was mine, he's really divine,_

_The hero who conquered the Dragon Lord._

Hiccup would have given all the gold in Gringotts to evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he landed back onto the floor, picking up everything that had fallen out of his satchel, as Sven Hofferson did his best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now," he said, shooting some of the younger students away. "_And_ you, Snotlout."

Hiccup, glancing over, saw Snotlout stoop and snatch up something. Leering, he showed it to Dogsbreath and Clueless, and Hiccup realised that he'd got Sidduvb's diary.

"Give that back," said Hiccup quietly.

"Wonder what Useless' written in this?" said Snotlout, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover, and thought he had Hiccup's own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Ripper was staring from the diary to Hiccup, looking terrified.

"Hand it over, Snotlout," said Sven sternly.

"When I've had a look," said Snotlout, waving the diary tauntingly at Hiccup.

Sven said, "As an academy—", but Hiccup lost his temper. He pulled out his sword and sent a stream of fire that took the form of a giant fist. The giant fist slammed into Snotlout sending him backwards and made him release the dairy into the air. Astrid, smiling slyly, caught it.

"Hiccup!" said Sven loudly, "No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!"

But Hiccup didn't care, he'd got one over Snotlout, and that was worth a detention any day. Snotlout was looking furious, and as Ripper passed him to enter his classroom, he yelled spitefully after her, "Trying to make it look like that your sister sent that Freyjas to Useless was a dumb move."

Ripper looked embossed and ran into class. Astrid glared at Snotlout and pulled out her axe, but Hiccup pulled her away. Astrid didn't need to spend the whole of Charms getting violent shocks.

It wasn't until they had reached Flitwick's class that Hiccup noticed something rather odd about Sidduvb's diary. All his other books were drenched in scarlet ink. The diary, however, was as clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it. He tried to point this out to Astrid, but Astrid was having troubles with her crystal eye again; small puff of smoke were blossoming out of her axes' end, and she wasn't much interested in anything else.

Hiccup went to bed before anyone else in his dormitory that night. This was partly because he didn't think he could stand Double and Trouble singing, "_His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toad_", one more time. He could have felt a lot better if Ripper didn't try and get him and Astrid together; he got enough of that from Ragnar. Also he wanted to examine Riddle's diary again, and knew that Astrid thought he was wasting his time and Ragnar was busy doing the homework that Flitwick gave to them about the _Art of Fire Magic_.

Hiccup sat on his wooden bed and flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then he pulled a new bottle out of his bedside cabinet, dipped his quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.

The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, Hiccup loaded up his quill a second time and wrote, "My name it Hiccup Haddock."

The words shone momentarily on the page and they too sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in his own ink, came words Hiccup had never written.

"_Hello, Hiccup Haddock. My name is Tola Sidduvb. How did you come by my diary?"_

These words too, faded away, but not before Hiccup had started to scribble back.

"Someone tried to flush it down a toilet."

He waited eagerly for Sidduvb's reply.

"_Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."_

"What do you mean?" Hiccup scrawled, blotting the page in his excitement.

"_First tell me are you related to Stoick Haddock?"_

"Yes, I'm," Hiccup wrote, confused. "Did you know my father?"

"_Yes and I tell you he got into a lot of trouble. But back to the matter at head. This diary holds memories of terrible things. Things which were covered up. things which happened at the Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries."_

"That's where I am now," Hiccup wrote quickly. "I'm at Berk, and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

His heart was hamming. Sidduvb's rely came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew.

"_Of course I know the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my sixth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But Headmaster, Magnus the Great, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Berk, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. Nut I knew it could happen again. The dragon lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned._"

Hiccup nearly upset his ink bottle in his hurry to write back.

"It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?"

"_I can show you, if you like_," came Sidduvb's reply. "_You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him._"

Hiccup hesitated, his quill suspended over the diary. What did Sidduvb's mean? How could he taken inside somebody else's memory? He glanced nervously at the door to the dormitory, which was growing dark. When he looked back at the diary, he saw fresh words forming.

"_Let me show you._"

Hiccup paused for a fraction of a second and then wrote four letters.

"Okay."

The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Hiccup saw that the little square for June the thirteenth seemed to have turned a miniscule television screen. His hands trembling slightly, he raised the book to press his eye against the little window, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forwards; the window was widening, he felt his body leave his bed and he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of colour and shadow.

He felt his feet hit solid ground, and stood, shaking, as the blurred shapes around him came suddenly into focus.

He knew immediately where he was. This room was filled with sleeping portraits was Heyral's office—but it wasn't Heyral who was sitting behind the desk. It was the Viking that looked a lot like his father sitting behind the desk only older and with more grey hairs. He was reading a letter by candlelight.

Hiccup about to speak, but someone spoke behind him and said, "You wanted to talk to us, sir."

Hiccup jumped and looked behind him and saw two students that looked like third years. One he recognised straight away from the photo in Gobber's house, it was his father. The other one was a girl with thick brown hair tired in a bun. They both looked worried.

"Yes, it's about Valka and that poor girl with her," said the old Viking. "Do you two have any idea what happened, Phlegma?"

Hiccup looked at the young Phlegma in surprise and under stood what was going on. He somehow entered in the headmaster's house twenty years in the past.

"No, sir it's just like we said. She walked into the bathroom taking a long time and when I checked to see what's up I found the girl dead and Valka petrified," said the young Phlegma.

"I think she was getting to close to find who the Slytherin's heir is, dad," said Stoick.

This sudden bit of news shocked him the most so far. He looked at the old Viking, who turned out to be his grandfather, speechless.

"No doubt, son," said his grandfather.

Then there was a knock on the house door.

"Enter," said Magnus.

A boy of about seventeen entered, taking off his Viking helmet. A silver prefect badge was glinting on his chest and strapped to his back was a long bullhook. He was much taller than Hiccup and had jet black hair.

"Ah, Sidduvb," said Magnus.

"Great him," Stoick muttered and earned an elbow from Phlegma.

"You wanted to see me, sir," said Sidduvb. He looked nervous.

"Yes, but this is a private matter about the letter you sent me," said Magnus.

"Oh," said Sidduvb.

"Stoick, Phlegma go make to your common room," said Magnus. Both Stoick and Phlegma turned to leave, but before they stepped outside, he added, "Oh… and Stoick try and not get in to trouble."

"No promises," said Stoick glaring at Sidduvb and left with Phlegma.

Sidduvb looked at Magnus and said, "Your son is quite a unique."

"Tell me about," said Magnus. "That boy and his friends get into more trouble than anyone in Berk."

"He doesn't like me, because I caught his friend Gobber Belson create one of those machine creatures of his," said Sidduvb.

"Yes, but enough about my son," said Magnis kindly. "Let's talk about you. I cannot possibly let you stay at the academy over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

"No," said Sidduvb at once. "I'd much rather stay at Berk than go back to that—to that—"

"Orphanage," Magnus finished. "It's nothing to be a shamed of Tola."

"Yes, sir," said Sidduvb, reddening slightly.

"You are Muggle-born?"

"Half-blood, sir," said Sidduvb. "Muggle father, Valkyrie mother."

"And both you parents—?"

"My mother died just aster I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me: Tola after my father, Grim after my grandfather."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," said Magnus with sympathetically. "However, Tola, with everything going on…"

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" said Sidduvb.

"Precisely," said his grandfather. "You must see lad, how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the academy when term ends. Particularly in the light of the recent tragedy… the death of that poor little girl… Parents wouldn't want to bring their children her and I can't say I blame them. As we speak the Ministry of Magic is talking about closing the academy. We are no nearer locating the—uh—source of all this unpleasantness…"

Sidduvb's eyes had widened.

"Sir—if the person was caught… If it all stopped…"

"What do you mean?" said Magnus sitting up in his chair. "Sidduvb, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir," said Sidduvb quickly.

But Hiccup was sure it was the same sort of "no" that he himself had given Heyral.

Magnus sank back, looking faintly disappointed.

"You may go, Tola…"

Sidduvb turned around and stumped out of the house. Hiccup followed him.

He walked up the steps leading to the Grand Mountain. Sidduvb stopped in front of the doors leading to the Great Hall, and so did Hiccup, watching him. Hiccup could tell that Sidduvb was doing some serious thinking. He was biting his lip, his forehead furrowed.

Then, as though he had suddenly reached a decision, he entered the Great Hall, Hiccup gliding noiselessly behind him. They then walked through the door that lead them into the Entrance Hall, where they met a tall, musical Viking with one hand, sweeping auburn hair and beard with several greys in it called to Sidduvb from the marble staircase.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tola?"

Hiccup guessed at once how this Viking was. He was none other than a twenty-year-younger Heyral.

"I had to see the Headmaster, sir," said Sidduvb.

"Well, hurry off to bed," said Heyral, giving Sidduvb exactly the kind of penetrating stare Hiccup knew so well. "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…"

He sighed heavily, bade Sidduvb goodnight and strode off. Sidduvb watched him out of sight and then, moving quickly, headed straight down the stone steps to the dungeons, with Hiccup in hot pursuit.

But to Hiccup's disappointment, Sidduvb led him not into a hidden passageway or a secret tunnel but the very dungeon in which Hiccup had Potions with Grabbit. The torched hadn't been lit, and when Sidduvb pushed the door almost closed, Hiccup could only just see Sidduvb, standing stock-still by the door watching the passage outside.

It felt to Hiccup that they were there for at least an hour. All he could see was the figure of Sidduvb at the door, staring through the crack, waiting like a staue. And just when Hiccup had stopped feeling expectant and tense, and started wishing he could return to the present, he heard something move beyond the door.

Someone was creeping along the passage. He heard whoever it was pass the dungeon where he and Sidduvb were hidden. Sidduvb, quiet as a shadow, edged through the door and followed, Hiccup tiptoeing behind him, forgetting that he couldn't be heard.

For perhaps five minutes they followed the footsteps, until Sidduvb stopped suddenly, his head inclined in the direction of new noises. Hiccup heard a door creak open, and then someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.

"Came down… Nothin' goin' to hurt yer… c'mon now… in the box…"

There was something familiar about that voice.

Sidduvb suddenly jumped around the corner. Hiccup stepped out behind him. He could see the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large trunk next to it.

"Evening, Gobber," said Sidduvb sharply.

Hiccup gasped and looked at the young Gobber. He still had his arm and leg and had a full head of hair. Gobber then boy slammed the door shut and stood up.

"What yer doing' down here, Sidduvb?"

Sidduvb stepped closer.

"It's all over," he said. "I'm going to have turn you in, Gobber. Stoick and his friends can't save you now. They're talking about closing Berk if the attacks don't stop."

"What d'yeh—"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But mechanic bests don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and—"

"He never killed no one!" said Gobber, backing against the closed door. From behind him, Hiccup could hear a funny scraping sound.

"Come on, Gobber," said Sidduvb, moving yet closer. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Berk can do it make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered…"

"It wasn' him," roared Gobber, his voice echoing in the dark passage. "I didn't build him to kill anyone! He never!"

"Stand aside," said Sidduvb, drawing his bullhook with a black crystal eye in it.

He sent a powerful gust of wind along the corridor. The door behind Gobber flew open with such force it knocked him into the wall opposite. And out it came a small mechanical dragon.

The mechanical dragon was built a lot like a Speed Stinger. A speedy flightless dragon with a poisoned tail that even one cut could paralysed a human and dragon for hours. Sidduvb raised his bullhook and fired several icicles at the mechanical dragon, but it moved so fast that Hiccup could barely see it. Sidduvb was about to slam his bullhook into the ground no doubt to do some Earth Magic, but an ice wall came in-between him and the mechanical dragon.

Sidduvb and Hiccup turned around and saw Gobber holding his hammer with dark grey crystal eye in it which faces was on the stone floor. He glared at Sidduvb and said, "You want to get to him you have to go through me."

"Fine by me," Sidduvb said pointing his bullhook at him.

As the two began their duel, the scene whirled, the darkness become complete, Hiccup felt himself falling and with a crash, he landed spread-eagled on his wooden bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, Sidduvb's diary lying open on his stomach.

Before he had had time to regain his breath, the dormitory door opened and Ragnar came in.

"There you are," he said.

Hiccup sat up. He was sweating and shaking.

"What's the matter?" said Ragnar, looking at him concern.

"It was Gobber, Rag. Gobber opened the Chamber of Secrets twenty years ago."


	14. Fudge the Mighty

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar had always known that Gobber had an unfortunate liking of making mechanical creatures. During their first year at Berk he had made a giant robotic dog called "Rover". And if, as a boy Gobber had heard that a mechanical dragon was hidden somewhere in the castle, Hiccup was sure he'd have gone to any lengths for a glimpse of it. He's probably thought that it needed oiling or something, and thought he should do it himself; Hiccup could just imagine the thirteen-year-old Gobber trying to replace its nuts and bolts. But he was equally certain that Gobber would never have meant to kill anybody.

Hiccup half wished he hadn't found out how to work Sidduvb's diary. Again and again Astrid and Ragnar made him recount what he'd seen, until he was heartily sick of telling them and sick of the long, ciricual conversations that followed.

"Sidduvb _might_ have got the wrong person," said Ragnar. "Maybe it was some other dragon that was attacking people."

"Rag, a robot can live over a thousand years," said Astrid dully. "Do you know of any dragon that can live over a thousand years?"

"We always knew Gobber had been expelled," said Hiccup miserably. "And the attacks must've stopped after Gobber was kicked out. Otherwise, Sidduvb wouldn't have got his award."

"At least we know why there was no mention of this anywhere," said Ragnar.

"Yeah, my grandfather probably thought it would look good if his son was friends with the guy attacking Muggle-borns," said Hiccup.

"Personal I think Sidduvb _does_ sound like Sven—who asked him to grass on Gobber, anyway?"

"But the dragon had _killed_ someone, Astrid," said Ragnar.

"And Sidduvb was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Berk," said Hiccup. "I don't blame him for wanting to stay here…"

Astrid bit her lip, then said tentatively,

"You met Gobber down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Hiccup?"

"He was buying leather," said Hiccup quickly.

The three of them fell silent. After a long pause, Ragnar voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice: "Do you think we should go and _ask_ Gobber it all?"

"That's be a fun visit," said Hiccup sarcastically. "Hi, Gobber, tell us, have you been setting a robotic dragon loose in the mountain lately."

In the end, they decided that they wouldn't say anything to Gobber unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became hopeful that they would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. It was now nearly four months since Hardbottom and Nearly Headless Njal had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. Even Speedfist, who still believed Hiccup was the culprit, had asked Hiccup quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in Barn House Three. This made Flora very happy.

"The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," she told Hiccup. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the healing centre."

* * *

><p>The second years were given something new to think about during their Thor holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for third year, a matter that Ragnar, at least, took very seriously.<p>

"It could affect our whole future," he told Hiccup and Astrid, as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with ticks.

"I just want to give up Potions," said Hiccup.

"Well you can't," said Astrid firmly. "We keep all our subjects. And before you say it you can't get out of Combat Arts. It's an important subject."

"Not the way Flashburn teaches it," said Hiccup. "I haven't learned anything from him apart from not to shot lightning at a Deadly Nadder."

"I have to agree with him on that," said Ragnar looking up from his list. "Quirrell wasn't much better. Still we live and hope that we'll get a proper teacher one of these days."

Fishlegs had been sent letters from all the Vikings and Valkyries in his clan, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes. Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who, like Hiccup, had grown up with Muggles, ended up choosing at random, then picking the subject they chose. Ragnar took nobody's advice but signed up for everything.

"Hiccup smiled grimly to himself at the thought of what Uncle Magnus and Aunt Runa would say if he tried to discuss his career in magic with them. Not that he didn't get any guidance: Sven Hofferson was eager to share his experience.

"Depends where you want to _go_, Hiccup," he said. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Soothsaying. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think Vikings should have a thorough understanding of the non-magical community, particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them—look at my father, he has to deal with Muggles business all the time. My brother Riptide was always studying different metal and making something out of them, so he went for Forging. "Play to you strengths, Hiccup."

But the only thing Hiccup felt he was really good at was Dragon Racing. Though since Gobber taught Forging he thought that might be a good subject to learn. He also decided to choose the same new subjects as Astrid, just so he could get close to her.

* * *

><p>Gryffindor's next Dragon Racing match would be against Huffelpuff. Erte was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Hiccup barely had time for anything but Dragon Racing and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday's match, he went up to the dragon stables to drop off Toothless feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Dragon Racing cup had never been better.<p>

But his cheerful mood didn't last long. At the top of the stairs to the Great Hall came Fishlegs running as fast as his skinny legs could carry him. He was looking frantic.

"H-h-hiccup," he wheezed, "I don't know wh-who did it. I just c-come with m-me."

They both ran into the mountain, up the marble staircase and into Gryffindor common room. They went up to the boys' dormitory and Fishlegs pushed open the door.

The contents of Hiccup's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cape lay ripped on the floor. The bedclothes had been pulled off his wooden bed and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress.

Hiccup walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of _Travels with Trolls_.

As he and Fishlegs pulled the blankets back onto his bed, Ragnar, Tuffnut and Wartihog came in. Tuffnut swore loudly.

"What happened, Hiccup?"

"No idea," said Hiccup. But Ragnar was examining Hiccup's fur vest. All the pockets were hanging open.

"Looks like someone's been looking for something," said Ragnar.

Hiccup started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk. It was only as he threw the last of Flashburn's books back into it that he realised what wasn't there.

"And they found it," he said in an undertone to Ragnar. "Sidduvb's diary's gone."

"_What?_"

Hiccup jerked his head towards the dormitory door and Ragnar followed him out. They hurried back down to the Gryffindor common room, which was half-empty, and joined Astrid, who was sitting alone, reading her copy of _Fighting with Frost-giants_.

Astrid looked shocked at the news.

"But—only a Gryffindor could have stolen—nobody else knows our password…"

"Exactly," said Hiccup.

* * *

><p>They woke next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.<p>

"Perfect Dragon Racing conditions!" said Eret enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. "Hiccup, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast."

"Yeah, but don't over feed him or Toothless won't be able to fly," said Astrid.

Hiccup had been staring down the packed Gryffindor table, wondering if the new owner of Sidduvb's diary was right in front of his eyes. Ragnar had been urging him to report the robbery, but Hiccup didn't like the idea. He'd have to tell a teacher all about the diary and how many people knew why Gobber had been expelled twenty years ago? He didn't want to be the one who brought it all up again.

As he left the Great Hall with Astrid and Ragnar to go and get Toothless, another, very serious worry was added to Hiccup's growing list. He had just set foot on the staircase leading to the grounds when he heard it yet again: "_Kill this time…let me rip…tear…_"

He shouted aloud and Astrid and Ragnar jumped away from him in alarm.

"The voice!" said Hiccup, looking over his shoulder, "I just heard it again—didn't you?"

Astrid shook her head, wide-eyed. Ragnar, however, clapped a hand to his forehead.

"How could I be so stupid," he muttered. "Hiccup—I believe I'm just understood something! I've got to go to the library!"

And he sprinted away, up the stairs.

"_What_ does he understand?" said Hiccup distractedly still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

"Because that's what Ragnar does," said Astrid, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library."

Hiccup stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind him, talking loudly, walking down the steps making their way to the Dragon Racing pitch. In fact the only thing Hiccup was sure was that voice was coming below ground, but that did seem possible.

"You'd better get moving," said Astrid. "It's nearly eleven—the match."

They both rushed over to the stables to get on their dragons. Only they found the dragons acting weird, it looked as if they were trying to get away from something. Hiccup finally managed to calm Toothless down enough to get on him and Astrid did the same with Stormfly.

They flew over towards the pitch, but Hiccup mind was still on the mountain and the bodiless voice. Once they got there, Astrid went up to the stands and Hiccup went to the charging room to get his face paint on.

The teams flew up into the air to tumultuous applause. Eret and Skullcrusher to a warm up flight around the basket, Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who had canary yellow face paint, were in a huddle, having last minute discussion of tactics.

However, Phlegma flew into the centre of the pitch on Cloudjumper, who was a Stormcutter that once belong to his mother, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

Hiccup's heart dropped like a stone.

"This match has been cancelled," Phlegma called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Eret, looking devastated, flew over to Phlegma without.

"But ma'am!" he shouted, "We've got to play… the cup… _Gryffindor_…"

Phlegma ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone: "All students are to make their way back to the house common rooms, where their Head of House will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Hiccup over to her.

"Hiccup, I think you'd better come with me…"

Wondering how she could possibly suspect him this time, Hiccup saw Astrid flying towards them on Stormfly; she came alongside them as they flew over towards the Berk. To Hiccup's surprise, Phlegma didn't object.

"Yes, perhaps you'd better come too, Miss Hofferson."

Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being cancelled, others looked worried. Hiccup and Astrid followed Phlegma back to Berk and towards the village. In fact Phlegma didn't even tell them to leave their dragons at the stables and there went taken to anyone's house this time.

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Phlegma in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the healing centre. "These has been another attack… and _double_ attack."

Flora was bending over a fifth year girl with long curly hair. Hiccup recognised her as the Ravenclaw he and Ragnar had accidentally asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her was—"

"_Ragnar!_" Hiccup groaned.

Ragnar laid utterly still, his eyes open and glassy.

"They were found near the library," said Phlegma. "I son't suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them."

She was holding up a small circular mirror.

"All we know was that Ragnar said he was going to the library before the match," said Astrid as the two of them stared at Ragnar.

Phlegma nodded sadly and said heavily, "I will escort you back to the Gryffindor common room. I need to address the students in any case.

* * *

><p>"All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Dragon Racing training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activates."<p>

The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Phlegma in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the academy will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately.

"That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw and one Hufflepuff," said the Hofferson twins' friend Lock Jordson, counting on his fingers. "Haven't _any_ of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it _obvious_ all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The _heir_ of Slytherin, the _monstrous dragon_ of Slytherin—why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

Sven Hofferson was sitting in a chair behind Lock, but for once he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned.

"Sven's in shock," said Trouble told Hiccup quietly. "That Ravenclaw girl—Clearwater Puddleson—she's a prefect. I don't think he thought that dragon would dare attack _prefect_."

But Hiccup was only half-listening. He didn't seem to be able to get rid of the picture of Ragnar, lying on the healing bed as though carved out of stone. And if the culprit wasn't caught soon, he was looking at a lifetime back with the Dalssons. Tola Sidduvb had turned Gobber in because he was faced with the prospect of a Muggle orphanage if the school closed. Hiccup now knew exactly how he had felt.

"What're we going to do?" said Astrid quietly in Hiccup's ear. "D'you think they suspect Gobber."

"We've got to go and talk to him," said Hiccyp, making up his mind. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."

"But Phlegma said we've got to stay in our common room unless we're in class—"

"I think," said Hiccup, more quietly still, "it's time to get my dad's old cape out again."

* * *

><p>Hiccup had inherited just one thing from his father: a long and silvery Invisibility Cape. It was their only chance of sneaking out of the academy to visit Gobber without anyone knowing about it. Hiccup went to bed at the usual time, waited until Fishlegs, Tuffnut and Wartihog had stopped discussing the Chamber of Secrets and finally fallen asleep, then got up, dressed, and grabbed the cape. He went downstairs where Astrid was waiting and threw the cape over themselves.<p>

The journey through the dark and deserted corridors wasn't enjoyable. Hiccup, who had wandered the corridors several times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, prefects and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cape didn't stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Astrid, accidently, stepped on his toe only yards from the spot where Grabbit stood standing guard. Thankfully, Grabbit sneezed at almost exactly the moment he yelled in pain. It was with relief that they reached Gobber's house.

They entered inside and removed the cape. They then came face to face with a crossbow being held by Gobber. He was about to pull the trigger, but stopped when he realised who it was.

"Oh," he said lowering the crossbow. "What're you two doin' here? Yeh supposed to be in your common room."

"We need to talk to you," said Astrid.

Gobber grumbled and told them to sit down while he made some coffee. They saw Grump sleeping next to the forge peacefully as though nothing was happening.

He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the jug with a nervous jerk oh his massive hand.

"Are you okay, Gobber," said Hiccup. "Did you hear about Ragnar?"

"Oh, I heard, all right," said Gobber, a slight break in his voice.

"Listen Gobber we want to know if you—that is to say if you have an idea—" said Hiccup nervously.

"Do you know where the Chamber of Secrets is?" Astrid asked bluntly.

Gobber almost dropped the coffee mug. He looked at the two of them and sighed.

"Listen yeh two what yeh must understand is that—" he never finshed because he saw two touches heading towards them. "Quick, hide."

Without a second thought Hiccup and Astrid threw the Invisibility Cape over themselves and retreated into a corner. They did it just in time as the two figures came into view.

"Good evening, Gobber."

It was Heyral. He entered looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking man.

The stranger was a short, portly man with rumpled grey hair and an anxious expression. He was wearing a great Viking helmet, a majestic looking cape and thick fur boots. Strapped to his thigh was longsword.

"That's Dad boss!" Astrid breathed. "Fudge the Mighty. He's the Minister of Magic!"

Gobber had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Heyral to Fudge.

"Bad business, Gobber," said Fudge, in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things have gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"But I've never," said Gobber, looking imploringly at Heyral, "you know I never, Heyral…"

"I want it understood, Fudge, that Gobber has my full confidence," said Heyral, frowning at Fudge.

"Look, Heyral," said Fudge, uncomfortable. "Gobber's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something—the academy governors have been in touch."

"Yet again, Fudge, I tell you that taking Gobber away will not help in the slightest," said Heyral. His blue eyes were full of fire Hiccup had never seen before.

"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting with his longsword. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Gobber, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty—"

"Take me?" said Gobber, who was trembling, "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only," said Fudge, not meeting Gobber;s eyes. "Not a punishment, Gobber, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology and will be clear of all charges…"

"Not Azkaban?" croaked Gobber.

Before Fudge could answer, another figure entered the house.

Hiccup almost gave themselves away, but Astrid stopped him by elbowing him in ribs, hard.

Spitelout the Stern stride into Gobber's house swathed in a long black travelling cape, smiling cold and satisfied smile. Grump must not really like Spitelout, because he woke up and growled at him.

"Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly, "Good, good…"

"What're you doin' here?" said Gobber furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"Believe me Gobber, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your—uh—do you call this a house?" said Spitelout, sneering as he looked around the messy workshop. "I simply called at the school and was told that the Headmaster was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Spitelout?" said Heyral. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes.

"_Dreadful_ thing, Heyral," said Spitelout lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but the other governors and I feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Supension—you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have thre been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Berk, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the academy."

"Oh, now, see here, Spitelout," said Fudge, looking alarmed, "Heytal supended… no, no… last thing we want just now…"

"The appointment—or suspension—of the Headmaster id a matter for the governors, Fudge," said Spitelout smoothly. "And as Heyral has failed to stop these attacks…"

"Now loo, Spitelout, if _Heyral_ can't stop them—" said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, "I mean to say, who _can?_"

"That remains to be seen," said Spitelout, with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted…"

Gobber leapt to his feet at once.

"An' how many did yeh ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Spitelout, eh?" he roared.

"I'd what that temper of yours Gobber, it'll lead you into trouble one of these days," said Spitelout. "I would try and do that to the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

"Yeh, can' take Heyral!" yelled Gobber, making even Astrid shudder. "Take him away, an'd the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance!" There'll be killin's next!"

"Calm yourself, Gobber," said Heyral sharply. He looked at Spitelout.

"If the governors want my removal, Spitelout, I shall of course step aside."

"But—" stuttered Fudge.

"_No!_" growled Gobber.

Heyral had not taken his bright blue eyes off Spitelout icy cold blue ones.

"However," said Heyral, speaking very slowly and clearly, so that none of them could miss a word, "you will find that I will only _truly_ have left this academy when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Berk to those who ask for it."

For a second, Hiccup almost sure Heyral's eyes flickered towards the corner where he and Astrid stood hidden.

"Admirable sentiments," said Spitelout, bowing. "Well shall all miss your—uh—highly individual way of running things, Heyral, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any—ah—'_killin's_'."

He strode to the doorway and bowed Heyral out. Fudge, fiddling with his longsword, waited for Gobber to go ahead of him, but Gobber stood his ground, took a deep breath and said carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find out some _stuff_, all they'd have ter do would find metal sphere. That's lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'."

Fudge stared at him in amazement.

"All right, I'm coming," said Gobber. But as he was about to follow Fudge through the doorway, he stopped again and said loudly, "Oh, an' someone'll need ter feed Grump while I'm away."

The door banged shut and Astrid pulled the Invisbility Cape off.

"We're in trouble now," she said hoarsely. "Gobber's right without Heyral they'll be killings next."

Hiccup agreed with her, but he didn't know what to do. He then noticed that Grump had got bored and was asleep again.


	15. Aragog

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the mountain; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the farmhouses. But with no Gobber forging something at his house with Grump or teaching the third years and up Forging, the scene didn't look right to Hiccup; no better, in fact, than the inside of mountain, where things were so horribly wrong.

Hiccup and Astrid had tried to visit Ragnar, but visitors were now barred from entering the healing centre.

"We're taking no more chances," Flora told them severely through a crack in the healing centre door. "No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off…"

With Heyral gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the academy that didn't look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled.

During Charms Hiccup noticed that Heather was looking at Ragnar's empty seat with a sad expression on her face. He, however, was too busy thinking about what Heyral said to notice. He kept repeating Heyral's final words to himself. "_I will only truly have left this academy when none here are loyal to me… Help will always be given at Berk to those who ask for it._" But what good were these words? Who exactly where they supposed to ask for help, when everyone was just as confused and scared as they were?

Gobber's hint about his metal sphere was far easier to understand—the trouble was there didn't seem to be a single chance for them to slip away and being depressed about Heyral and Gobber leaving Berk they forgot to look around for it. They were still not allowed to wander off on their own, but had to move around the castle in a pack with other Gryffindors. Most of their fellow students seemed glad that they were being shepherded from class to class by teachers, but Hiccup found it very irksome.

One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Snotlout Jorgenson was strutting around the academy as though he had just been appointed Head Boy. Hiccup didn't realise what he was so pleased about until the Potions lesson about a fortnight after Heyral and Gobber had left, when, sitting right behind Snotlout, Hiccup overheard him gloating to Dogsbreath and Clueless.

"I always thought Dad might be the one who got rid of Heyral," he said, not troubling to keep his voice down. "I told you he thinks Heyral's the worst Headmaster the academy's ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent Headmaster now. Someone who won't _want_ the Chamber of Secrets closed. Phlegma won't last long; she's only filling in…"

Grabbit swept past Hiccup, making no comment about Ragnar's empty seat and cauldron.

"Sir," said Snotlout loudly. "Sir, why don't _you_ apply for the Headmaster's job?"

"Now, now, Snotlout," said Grabbit, though he couldn't supress a thin-lipped smile. "Heyral has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough."

"Yeah, right," said Snotlout, smirking. "I expect you'd have Dad's vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job. _I'll_ tell Dad you're the best teacher here, sir…"

Grabbit smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Wartihog, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron.

"I'm quite surprised the Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now," Snotlout went on, "bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn't Keatson…"

The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; at Snotlout last words, Astrid leapt off her stool, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, his attempts to reach Snotlout went unnoticed.

"Let me at him," Astrid growled, as Hiccup and Wartihog hung onto her arms and held her back with all their strength. "I'll get that son of a half troll; I'm going to kill him with my bare hands—"

"Hurry up, I've got to take you all to Herbology," barked Grabbit over the lass's heads, and off they went, crocodile fashion, with Hiccup, Astrid and Wartihog bringing up the rear, Astrid still trying to get loose. It was only safe to let go of her when Grabbit had seen them out of the mountain, and they were making their way to the farms.

The Herbology class was very subdued; there were now two missing from their number, Ragnar and Hardbottom.

Flora set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Hiccup went to tip an armful of withered stalks onto the compost heap and found himself face to face with Speedfist. Speedfist took a deep breath and said, very formally, "I just want to say, Hiccup, I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Ragnar Keatson, and I apologize for all the stuff I said about you and your dad. We're all in the same boat now, and, well—"

He held out a pudgy hand, and Hiccup shook it.

"Must've hurt to say that," said Hiccup.

"More than you know," said Speedfist smiling.

Speedfist and his friend Eggingarde came to work at the same Shrivelfig as Huccup and Astrid.

"That Snotlout Jorgenson character," said Speedfist, breaking off dead twigs, "he seems very pleased about all this, doesn't he? Do you know, I think _he_ might be Slytheri's heir?"

"Figured that out all by yourself, did you," said Astrid, who didn't seem to have forgiven Speedfist as readily as Hiccup.

"Do _you_ think it's Snotlout, Hiccup?" Speedfist asked.

"No," said Hiccup, so firmly that Speedfist and Eggingarde stared.

"He means that we already suspected him and we found out the Chamber was open before," said Astrid hotly.

"So, he's father could have opened it when he was here," said Speedfist.

"Yeah, we thought so as well, but it opened before Spitefist the Stern stepped foot in Berk," said Hiccup.

Both Speedfist and Eggingarde looked at each other and said no more about the matter.

At the end of the lesson Flora escorted the class to their Combat Arts lesson. Hiccup and Astrid lagged behind the other so they could talk out of earshot.

"We'll have to use the Invisibility Cape again," Hiccup told Astrid. "We'll sneak into Gobber's house, find that metal sphere of his and find the answers to your questions."

"Right," said Astrid nodding in agreement. "But I think we should get our dragons just in case we entre Raven's Point, you remember last time.

Hiccup did remember last time, last year he, Astrid, Ragnar and Snotlout had detention in the forest behind the mountain with the ground keepers Bucket and Mulch. He had barely survived and hoped that he'd never enter had to enter the forest again.

Flashburn bounded into the arena and the class stared at him. Every other teacher in the place was looking grimmer than Grabbit, but Flashburn appeared nothing short of buoyant.

"Come now," he cried, beaming around him, "why all these long faces?"

People swapped exasperated looks, but nobody answered.

"Don't you people realize," said Flashburn, speaking slowly, as though they were all bit dim, "the danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away."

"Says who?" said Wartihog loudly.

"My dear young man, the Minister of Magic wouldn't have taken Gobber if he hadn't been one hundred per cent sure that he was guilty," said Flashburn, in the tone of someone explaining that one and one made two.

"Oh, yes he would," said Hiccup, even more loudly than Wartihog.

"I flatter myself I know a _touch_ more Gobber's arrest than you do, Hiccup," said Flashburn in a self-satisfied tone. "Once you get as fames as me you'll understand."

Hiccup started to say that he didn't think so, somehow, but stopped in mid-sentence when Astrid elbowed him in the ribs.

"We weren't there, remember?" Astrid muttered.

But Flashburn disgusting cheeriness, his hints that he had always thought Gobber was no good, his confidence that the whole business was now at an end, seemed to get under Astrid's skin. It would seem as if she was starting to realise that her hero wasn't who she thought he was.

* * *

><p>The Gryffindor common room was always very crowded these days, because from six o'clock onwards, the Gryffindors had nowhere else to go. They also had plenty to talk about, with the result that the common room often didn't empty until past midnight.<p>

Hiccup went to get the Invisibility Cape out of his trunk right after dinner, and spent the evening sitting on it, waiting for the room to clear. Double and Trouble challenged Hiccup and Astrid to a few games of Exploding Snap and Ripper sat watching them, very subdued in Ragnar's usual chair. Hiccup and Astrid kept losing on purpose, trying to finish the games quickly, but even so, it was well past midnight when Double, Trouble and Ripper finally went to bed.

Hiccup and Astrid waited for distant sounds of two dormitory doors closing before seizing the cape, throwing it over themselves, and climbed through the portrait hole.

It was another difficult journey through the corridors, dodging all the teachers. At last they reached the outside and once they shut the giant oak front doors they walked down the steps to the village.

They had decided to get the metal sphere from Gobber's house first, because there was no way they could hide two dragons under the Cape.

Once they entered inside they saw that Grump was fast asleep still in the same place they left him. They looked through Gobber's workshop and it was in a right mess. Plans for weapons and other machines laid everywhere and unused bits of metal littered the desk.

However, after about ten minutes of searching Hiccup found what they were looking for. It was metal sphere the size of a cricket balls with a red button on top of it.

"So now that we've found it, what do we do with it?" Astrid asked looking at metal sphere.

"I'm guessing we press the button," said Hiccup and he pressed the button.

Seconds later it opened up and a hologram of a blue arrow appeared. Judging from the way it was pointing, Hiccup could tell that they had to head towards Raven's Point.

"Looks like we will need Toothless and Stromfly," said Hiccup.

"Then let's go and get them," said Astrid.

They got under the Invisibility Cape and made their way to the stables. When they entered they were met with Toothless and Stormfly, who rammed into them and lick the two of them like mad.

"Aw, you know that doesn't come off," said Hiccup as he freed himself from Toothless.

"It's great seeing you to girl," said Astrid giving her a hug.

Hiccup then looked at Toothless and said, "Okay, bud, we need you and Stormfly to get us to Raven's Point."

Toothless nodded and lowered himself so Hiccup could get on his back. Stormfly did the say with Astrid. Once they were safely on their backs they flew out of the stables and flew towards Raven's Point.

They decided they would have a better chance of spotting anything if they flew into the forest itself. As they flew through forest the hologram of the arrow pointed left so they followed it. They had been flying for what felt like half an hour, not speaking, listening hard for noise other than breaking twigs and rustling leaves. Hiccup had to great a fireball in his hand so see, because the forest was so dense it was difficult to see.

Suddenly both Toothless and Stormfly stopped and roared at something in the distance.

"What, is it, bud?" Hiccup asked Toothless.

"There's something moving over there," said Astrid pulling her axe out. "Listen… Sounds like something big."

They listened. Some distance to their right, the something big snapped branched as it carved a path through the tress.

"Give us some light, bud," said Hiccup.

Toothless fired a plasma shot where the something big was coming, lighting the place up. Hiccup couldn't quite make it out, but Astrid just stared at it in bewilderment.

"I don't believe it," she said. "It's our car!"

"_What?_"

Hiccup looked more closely and realised that Astrid was right. In the clearing ahead of them was indeed Mr Hofferson's car standing, empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof od dense branches, its headlamps ablaze. As they got closer it moved slowly towards Astrid, exactly like a large, turquoise dog greeting its owner.

"It's been here all this time!" said Astrid delightedly, as she hopped off Stormfly and walked around the car. "Look at it. The forest's turned it wild…"

The wings of the car were scratched and smeared with mud. Apparently it had taken to trundling around the forest on its own. Both Toothless and Stormfly looked at the car with great interest, no doubt this was the first time they've seen a car.

"And we thought it was going to attack us!" said Hiccup.

Astrid leaned against the car patting it and said, "I wonder where it had gone!"

Hiccup looked at the hologram arrow and saw it was now pointing left. He also noticed that the arrow was slowly turning red; he guessed that meant they were getting close to whatever Gobber was hinting to them.

"We have to get going," said Hiccup.

Astrid nodded, but next thing they knew both Toothless and Stormfly collapsed to the ground. They looked around trying to work out what had happened.

They soon got their answer, surrounding them was a whole herd of Speed Stingers. They looked like theropod dinosaurs, but with sail-like appendages on their head, back and legs. They eyed them closely no doubt wondering how tasty they would me. Speed Stingers maybe dragons, but unlike the other dragons Hiccup had met they weren't ones to bond with humans for some unknown reason.

That's when Hiccup saw it. He saw a much bigger Speed Stinger, but unlike the rest this one was completely made of metal. That's when Hiccup realised that it was the same robotic dragon Hiccup saw in Sidduvb's dairy only bigger and older.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" the dragon spoke. This made Hiccup feel even more nervous, he had no idea the robot could talk. "It would seem as if some humans and their dragons have wondered into our territory." He looked at the other Speed Stinger and simply said, "Kill them."

"Wait, we're friends of Gobber!" Hiccup shouted. His heart seemed to have left his chest to pound in his throat. "I'm Hiccup and this is my friend Astrid."

Astrid waved nervously and simply said, "Hi."

The Speed Stinger that were about to kill them stopped and looked at robot Speed Stinger.

"Gobber has never sent men into our territory before," he said slowly.

"Yeah, well that's a long story, but first mind telling us who you are?" Hiccup asked.

Robot Speed Stinger paused.

"I'm Aragog the pack leader of the Speed Stingers," said Aragog. "Tell me you would be Hiccup Haddock would you."

"Yes," said Hiccup.

"Gobber has mentioned your father dozes of time about how he stood up for Gobber when he got expelled from the academy.

"Yeah, well Gobber's in trouble," said Hiccup, breathing very fast. "That's why we've come."

"In trouble?" said Aragog concerned. "But why has he sent you?"

"They think, up at the academy, that Gobber's been setting a-a-something on students. They've taken him to Azkaban."

Aragog looked furious, and all around the clearing the sound was echoed by the crowd of Speed Stinger roars; it was like applause, except applause didn't usually make Hiccup feel sick with fear.

"But that was years ago," said Aragog fretfully. "Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the academy. They believed that _I_ was the dragon that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Gobber had opened the Chamber and set me free."

"And you… you didn't come from the Chamber of Secrets?" said Hiccup, who could feel cold sweat on his forehead.

"I!" said Aragog, angrily. "Like I said before Gobber built me. The dragon of which we speak of was born in the academy. However, Gobber had to hide me in cupboard, because he believed that they would think I was the dragon that attacked the students at the academy. Gobber is my good friend, and a good man. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. He lost his duel to the one that discovered me and lost a tooth in the proses. I have lived here in the forest ever since, where Gobber still visits me. I had managed to gain respect to the Speed Stinger pack and became their leader."

Hiccup summoned what remained of his courage.

"So you never—never attacked anyone?"

"Never," croaked the old robot. "Gobber had never put that instinct in my programming. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom, another girl was found in the same corridor standing in front of a window. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which Gobber built me.

"But then… Do you know what _did_ kill that girl?" said Hiccup. "Because whatever it is, it's back and attacking people again—"

His words were drowned by a loud outbreak of roars from the Speed Stingers around him. They were acting as if they were afraid.

"The thing that lives in the castle," said Aragog, "is an ancient dragon and it is the instinct of dragon to fear this dragon apart from the Whispering Death, whose instinct is to obey it."

Hiccup didn't want to press the subject, not with the Speed Stingers getting closer and closer on all sides. Aragog seemed to be tired of talking. He was backing slowly out of the clearing, but the fresh and blood Speed Stingers continued to inch slowly towards Hiccup and Astrid.

"Well, thank you. We'll just go, then," Hiccup called desperately to Aragog, hearing leaves rustling behind him.

"While I do not attack people," said Aragog slowly. "My followers do not share this with me. I order them not to harm Gobber, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. However, out of respect for your father they will not attack you." Both Hiccup and Astrid give a sigh of relief, however it did last long, because Aragog added, "The girl and the dragons on the other hand I cannot deny."

"Like I'll let you have her!" Hiccup yelled pulling his swords out.

"I respect you for standing with your friend," said Aragog as he walked away. "In that case goodbye, friends of Gobber."

Hiccup spun around. Feet away, all around him was a wall of Speed Stingers, tails raised, their eyes gleaming in their heads…

"Got any ideas?" Astrid asked taking a fighting stance.

Hiccup knew two things. One: there were too many to fight and that they were too fast to out run. Two: their dragons were still paralysed from the Speed Stingers venom meaning they wouldn't fly away.

Then suddenly Mr Hofferson's car burst to life circled around them knocking several Speed Stingers to the ground with its headlights blazing. It stopped in front of Hiccup and Astrid and opened its doors.

"Get Toothless and Stormfly on it!" Hiccup yelled.

"What are you going to do?" Astrid asked, as she ran to their paralysed dragons.

"I'm going to buy you a little time," said Hiccup as he rushed towards the centre of the clearing, pulling his sword out if its sheath.

He then pressed his sword into the ground and shot two streams of fire out of it. The two streams went into opposite directions and circled around them creating a ring of fire. Hiccup turned and saw Astrid had somehow managed to get Toothless inside the car.

"I don't know what we're going to do with Stormfly," said Astrid looking to Stormfly to the car. "There is no way we'll be able to get her into the car."

She was right; Stormfly was a slightly larger dragon than Toothless meaning she wouldn't be able to fit through the door. Then the car beeped its horn and opened the boot. Inside it was a rope strong enough and large enough to hold Stormfly on the roof.

Hiccup turned around and saw the flames were getting weaker and some of the Speed Stringers managed to jump over the flames, he quickly used his Fire Magic to expand them, but the Speed Stinger were still charging towards them. They were indeed fast and Hiccup knew Astrid had more fight experience than he did.

"I'll deal with Stormfly, you take on the Speed Stingers," Hiccup said as he rushed over to Stormfly.

Astrid nodded and grabbed her axe and charged at the spending Speed Stingers. Hiccup knew they did have much time so he used some Wind Magic to lift Stormfly onto the back of the car and began to tie her onto it.

"Done!" Hiccup yelled.

Astrid nodded and slammed the base of her axe at the Speed Stringer she was battling. She rushed over to Hiccup, who was already sitting in the front seat. The moment she leaped into the back seat with Toothless the doors slammed shut.

Hiccup didn't had to touch the accelerator but the car didn't need him to; the engine roared and they were off, hitting more Speed Stringers. They jumped over the flames and sped up over a slope, out of the clearing, and they were soon crashing through the forest, branches whipping the windows as the car wound its way cleverly through the widest gaps, following a path it obviously knew.

They smashed their way through the undergrowth; Hiccup saw the wing mirror snap off as they squeezed past a large oak. After ten noisy, rocky minutes, the trees thinned, and Hiccup could again see patched of sky.

The car stopped so suddenly that that Stormfly was flung off the roof of the car. They had reached the edge of the forest. Hiccup got out and after a minute or so; both he and Astrid managed to get Toothless outside. Hiccup gave the car a grateful pat as it reversed back into the forest and disappeared from view.

It took about half an hour, but they somehow managed to get both Toothless and Stormfly into the stables without being caught. After Hiccup picked the Invisibility Cape and got outside, Astrid began losing her temper.

"Get the sphere," said Astrid crossly. "I'll never forgive Gobber. We're lucky to be alive."

"I think he thought that Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his," said Hiccup.

"That's exactly Gobber's problem!" said Astrid, thumping the wall of the stable. "He doesn't think things through when these robots of his, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!" She looked like that she'd strangle him the next time she saw him. "What was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know?"

"That Gobber never opened the Chamber of Secrets," said Hiccup, throwing the cape over Astrid and prodding her in the arm to make her walk. "He was innocent."

"Fat lot of good that does us," said Astrid, as they walked towards the mountain. "We're at another dead end."

She was right; they had hit dead ends everywhere. Sidduvb had caught the wrong person, the heir of Slytherin had got off, and no one could tell whether it was the same person, or a different one, who had opened the Chamber this time. There was nobody else to ask. Though Astrid comment about a dead end seemed to lingering in his mind.

As they walked up the steps to the mountain Hiccup twitched the cape to make sure their feet were hidden, then pushed the creaking front doors ajar. They walked carefully across the Great Hall, entered into the Entrance Hall and up the marble staircase, holding their breath as they passed corridors where watchful sentries were walking. At last they reached the safety of the Gryffindor common room, where the fire had burned itself into glowing ash. They took off the cloak and before they climbed to their respected dormitories that Hiccup remembered what Astrid had said that they had reached a dead end.

"Astrid!" Hiccup said grabbing her arm.

"What?" she said tiredly.

"That girl who died. Aragog said she was found in a bathroom," said Hiccup. "What if she had never left the bathroom? What if she's still there?"

Astrid looked at Hiccup, her eyes widened. Apparently she understood what he was on about.

"You _don't_ think—not _Moaning Myrtle?_"


	16. The Chamber of Secrets

"All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was just three toilets away," said Astrid bitterly at breakfast next day, "and we could've asked her, and now…"

It had been hard enough trying to sneak to Gobber's house. Escaping their teachers long enough to sneak into a girls' bathroom, the girls' bathroom, moreover, right next to the scene of the first attack, was going to be almost impossible.

But something happened in their first lesson, Transfiguration, which drove the Chamber of Secrets out of their minds for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes into the class, Phlegma told them that their exams would start on the first of June, one week from today.

"_Exams?_" howled Tuffnut, "We're still getting _exams?"_

"Can't we do something cooler like shooting sheep out of catapults?" said Ruffnut rather to eagerly.

There was a loud bang behind Hiccup as Fishlegs' hammer slipped out of his oversized hands, vanishing one of the legs on his desk. Phlegma restored it with a wave of her axe, and turned, frowning, at the Thorston twins.

"The whole point of keeping the academy open at this time for you to receive your education. And two need all the education you can get." she said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and trust you are all revising hard."

Revising hard! It had never occurred to Hiccup that there would be exams with the academy in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, which made Phlegma scowl even more darkly.

"Heyral's instructions were to keep the academy running as normally as possible," she said. "And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

Hiccup looked down at the pair of white rabbits he was supposed to be turning into slippers. What had he learned so far this year? He couldn't seem to think of anything that would be useful in an exam.

Astrid saw his expression and tried to cheer him.

"Hey, at least you don't have a cracked crystal eye," she said, holding up her axe, which had just started whistling loudly. "Can you imagine me taking exams with this?"

Three days before their first exams, Phlegma made another announcement at breakfast.

"I have good news," she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.

"Heyral's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed Heather from the Ravenclaw table.

"Dragon Racing matches are back on!" roared Eret excitedly.

When the hubbub had subsided, Phlegma said, "Flora has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful ear will end with our catching the culprit."

There was an explosion of cheering, Hiccup looked over at the Slytherin table and wasn't at all surprised to see Snotlout hadn't joined in. Astrid, however, was looking happier than she's looked in days.

"It won't matter that we never asked Myrtle, then!" she said to Hiccup. "Ragnar will probably have all the answers when they wake him up! Mind you, he'll go mad when he finds out we've got exams in three days' time. He hasn't revised. It might be kinder to leave him where he id till they're over."

"I'm more concurred about the heir," said Hiccup.

"What do you mean?" Astrid asked.

"Well, it's just that this is him or her last chance to get rid of the Muggle-borns," Hiccup explained.

Just then, Ripper came over and sat next to Astrid. He looked tense and nervous, and Hiccup noticed that his hands were twisting in his lap.

"What up, Rip?" said Astrid, helping herself to more porridge.

Ripper didn't say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on his face that reminded Hiccup of someone, though he couldn't think who.

"Spit it out," said Astrid, watching him.

Hiccup suddenly realized who Ripper looked like. He was rocking backwards and forwards slightly in his chair, exactly like Dobby did when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information.

"I've got to tell you something," Ripper mumbled, carefully not looking at Hiccup.

"What is it?" said Hiccup.

Ripper looked as though he couldn't find the right words.

"_What?_" said Astrid.

Ripper opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Hiccup leaned forward and spoke quietly, so that only Ripper and Astrid could hear him.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

Ripper drew a deep breath and at that precise moment, Sven Hofferson appeared, looking tired and wan.

"If you've finished eating. I'll take that seat, Ripper. I'm starving, I've only just came off patrol duty."

Ripper jumped up as though his chair had just been electrified, gave Sven a fleeting, frightened look, and scarpered away. Sven sat down and grabbed a mug of coffee from the centre of the table.

"Sven!" said Astrid angrily. "He was just about to tell is something important!"

Halfway through a gulp of coffee, Sven choked.

"What sort of thing?" he said, coughing.

"I just asked him if he'd seen anything odd, and he started to say—"

"Oh—that—that's nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets," said Sven at once.

"How do you know?" said Astrid raising an eyebrow.

"Well, uh, if you must know, Ripper, uh, walked in on me the other day when I was—well, never mind—the point is, he spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked him not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think he'd keep his word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather—"

Hiccup had never seen Sven look so uncomfortable.

"What, in the name of Thor, were you doing, Sven?" said Astrid, grinning. "Go on, tell us, we won't laugh."

Sven didn't smile back.

"Pass me those rolls, Hiccup, I'm starving."

* * *

><p>Hiccup knew the whole mystery might be solved tomorrow without their help, but he wasn't about to pass up a chance to speak with Myrtle if it turned up—and to his delight it did, mid-morning, when they were being led to History of Magic by Flashburn.<p>

Flashburn, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong straightaway, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.

"Mark my words," he said, ushering them around a corner, "the first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be '_it was Gobber_.' Frankly, I'm astounded Phlegma thinks all these security measures are necessary."

"I agree, sir," said Hiccup, making him get a funny look from Astrid.

"Thank you, Hiccup," said Flashburn graciously, while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night…"

"That's right," said Astrid, catching on. "Why don't you leave us here, sir, we've only got one more corridor to go."

"You know, Miss Hofferson, I think I will," said Flashburn. "I really should go and prepare my nest class."

And he hurried off.

"Okay, let's go," said Astrid.

They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. But just as they were congratulating each other on their brilliant scheme…

"Haddock! Miss Hofferson! What are you doing?"

It was Phlegma, and her mouth was the thinnest on thin lines.

"We were—we were—" Astrid stammered, "We were going to—to go and see—"

"Ragnar," said Hiccup. Astrid and Phlegma both looked at him.

"We haven't seen her for ages, ma'am," Hiccup went on hurriedly, treading on Astrid's foot, "and we thought we'd sneak into the healing centre, you know, and tell him the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, uh, not to worry."

Phlegma was still staring at him, and for a moment, Hiccup thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

"Of course," she said, and Hiccup, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye. "Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been… I quite understand I was the same with Valka. Yes, Haddock, of course you may visit Mr Keatson. I will inform Binns where you've gone. Tell Flora I have given my permission."

Hiccup and Astrid walked away, hardly daring to believe that they'd avoided detention. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Phlegma blow her noise.

"That," said Astrid looking quite impressed, "was the best story you've ever come up with."

They had no choice now but to go to the healing centre and tell Flora that they had Phlegma permission to visit Ragnar.

Flora let them in, but reluctantly.

"There's just no _point_ talking to a Petrified person," she said, and they had to admit she was right when they'd taken their seats next to Ragnar. It was plain that Ragnar didn't have the faintest inkling that he had visitors, and they might just as well tell him bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.

"Wonder if he did see the attacker, though?" said Astrid, looking sadly at Ragnar's rigid face. "Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know…"

But Hiccup wasn't looking at Ragnar's face. He was more interested in his right hand. It lay clenched on top of his blankets, and bending closer, he saw that a piece of paper was scrunched inside his fist.

Making sure that Flora was nowhere near, he pointed this out to Astrid.

"Try and get it out," Astrid whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked Hiccup from Flora's view.

It was no easy task. Ragnar's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Hiccup was sure he was going to tear it. While Astrid kept watch he tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free.

It was a page torn from a very old library book. Hiccup smoothed it eagerly and Astrid leant close to read it too.

_Of the many fearsome beasts and dragons that roam out land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Screaming Death, a sub-species to the Whispering Death. This boulder class, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, hatches once every hundred years from a Whispering Death's egg that is hatched in cold dark caves. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Screaming Death has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eyes shall suffer instant death. Its roar is powerful enough to disorient any dragon, apart from Whispering Death, which follows it out of pure instinct._

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand Hiccup recognised as Ragnar's. _Pipes_.

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on it his brain.

"Astrid," he breathed, "This is it. This is the answer. The dragon in the Chamber's a Screaming Death—sub-species to a Whispering Death! _That's_ why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue…"

"Hang on, Hiccup," said Astrid confused, looking at the beds around them. "If this dragon can kill people with just one stare of its eyes then how come no one has died yet?"

Hiccup thought for a moment and looked at the hand mirror that was found next to Ragnar and Ravenclaw prefect. When he saw his reflection and another light lit on his brain.

"Because no looked into its eye," said Hiccup. "Not directly at least."

"What are you saying?" said Astrid now even more confused.

Hiccup looked at the beds around them.

"Gustav saw it through his camera. The Screaming Death burnt up all the film inside it, but Gustav just got Petrified. Hardbottom… Hardbottom must've seen the Screaming Death through Nearly Headless Njal! Njal got the full blast of it, but he's a ghost, he can't die _again_… and Ragnar and the Ravenclaw prefect were found with that mirror next to them. Ragnar had just realised the dragon was Screaming Death. I bet you anything he warned the first person he'd met to look round the corner with the mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror—and—well you know the rest. And I think my mum saw it's reflection in a window when she was attacked."

Astrid looked stunned; however, she still didn't look convinced.

"And Fugnus?" she whispered. "I'm pretty sure he did have a camera or a mirror, Hiccup."

Hiccup thought hard, picturing the scene on the night of Hallowe'en.

"The water…" he said slowly, "The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Fungus only saw the reflection like my mum…"

He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.

"_Its roar is powerful enough to disorient any dragon, apart from Whispering Death, which follows it out of pure instinct!_" he read aloud. "Gobber told me the dragons had been acting weird latterly like they were trying to get away from something! And Aragog mentioned that Whispering Death follow it. It all fits!"

"But how's the Screaming Death been getting around the place?" said Astrid. "Someone would have noticed a huge dragon going by."

"Ragnar's answered that for us," said Hiccup pointing at the word Ragnar had scribbled at the foot of the page. "Pipes."

"That explained how come you've been hearing that voice from inside the walls," said Astrid looking up.

"I've also heard it from underground," Hiccup reminded. "But this doesn't get us any closer of finding the Chamber."

Astrid suddenly grabbed Hiccup's arm.

"Wait, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!" she said eyes widened. "What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in—?"

"—_Moaning Myrtle's bathroom,_" said Hiccup.

They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it.

"To think it's been under our noises the how time," said Astrid.

"Yeah, and it means," said Hiccup, "I can't be the only Parselmouth in the academy. The Heir of Slytherin's one too. That's how they've been controlling the Screaming Death."

"We need to tell Phlegma," said Astrid.

"Let's go to the staff house," said Hiccup jumping up. "She'll be there in ten minutes, it's nearly break."

They ran outside and towards the seconded largest house in the village. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around outside, like they were in the corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff house. It was a large, panelled two stores room full of dark wooden chairs. Hiccup and Astrid paced around it, too excited to sit down.

But the bell to signal break never came.

Instead, echoing through the whole island came Phlegma's voice, magically magnified.

"_All students to return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff house. Immediately, please."_

Hiccup wheeled around to stare at Astrid.

"Great," said Hiccup. "Just perfect."

"What do we do now, Hiccup?" said Astrid aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"

"No," said Hiccup, glancing around. There was an ugly sort of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers' capes. "I here. let's hear what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we've found out."

They hid themselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving outside, and the staff house door banging open. From between the musty folds of the capes, they watched the teachers filtering into the room. some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Phlegma arrived.

"It has happened," she told the silent staff house. "A student has been taken by the dragon. Right into the Chamber itself."

Flitwick let out a squeal. Flora clapped her hands over her mouth. Grabbit gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, "How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin," said Phlegma, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one, _His skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._"

Flitwick burst into tears.

"Who is it," said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed into a chair. "Which student?"

"Ripper Hofferson," said Phlegma.

Hiccup felt Astrid move her hand to mouth, he looked and saw a tear trickling down her cheek.

"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," said Phlegma. "This is the end of Berk. Heyral always said…"

The staff house door banged open again. For a wild moment Hiccup was sure it would be Heyral. But it was Flashburn, and he was beaming.

"So sorry—dozed off—what have I missed?"

He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Grabbit stepped forward.

"Just the Viking," he said. "The very Viking. A boy has been snatched by the monstrous dragon, Flashburn. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

"M-my m-moment," Flashburn stuttered.

"That's right, Flashburn," chipped in Flora. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I—well-I—" spluttered Flashburn.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" piped up Flitwick.

"D-did I? I don't recall…"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the dragon before Gobber was arrested," said Grabbit. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

Flashburn stared around at his stony-faced colleagues.

"I… I really never… You may have misunderstood…"

"We'll leave it to you then, Flashburn," said Phlegma. "Your feats are legendary. Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the dragon all by yourself. A free rein at last."

Flashburn gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome any more. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin he looked weak-chinned and weedy.

"V-very well," he said. "I'll—I'll be in my house, getting—getting ready."

And he left the room.

"Right," said Phlegma, whose nostrils were flared, "that's got _him_ out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Berk Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."

The teachers rose, and left one by one.

* * *

><p>It was probably the worst day of Hiccup's entire life. He, Astrid, Double and Trouble sat together in a corner of Gryffindor common room, unable to say anything to each other. Sven wasn't there. He had gone to send a Terrible Terror to Mr and Mrs Hofferson, then shut himself up in his dormitory without speaking to them.<p>

No afternoon ever lasted as long as that one, nor had Gryffindor common room ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. Near sunset, Double and Trouble went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.

"He knew something, Hiccup," said Astrid, speaking for the first time since they had entered the wardrobe in the staff house. "That's why he was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Sven at all. He'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be way he was—" Astrid rubbed her eyes frantically. I mean, he was a pure-blood. There can't be any other reason. If only Sven hadn't scared him off."

Hiccup could see the sun sinking, blood-red, below the skyline. This was the worst he had ever felt. He could only imagine how Astrid felt; she was crying it was a sight that Hiccup had never seen and he hoped he would never see again.

"Hiccup," said Astrid, "Do you think there's any chance at all he'd not—you know—"

Hiccup did the only thing he would do and placed his arm around. What happened next surprised him; Astrid hugged him and cried into her shoulder. Then by instinct he hugged her back and stroked her head.

"I don't know," he said, "but I think we should go and see Flashburn. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it's a Screaming Death in there."

Astrid looked at him and nodded. The Gryffindors around them were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Hoffersons, that nobody tried to stop them as they got up, crossed the room, and left through the portrait hole.

Darkness was falling as they walked down the steps that lead to Flashburn's house. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps and hurried footsteps.

Hiccup knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Flashburn's eyes peering through it.

"Oh… Mr Haddock… Miss Hofferson…" he said, opening the door a mite wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment. If you would be quick…"

"Sir, we've got some information for you," said Hiccup. "We think it'll help you."

"Uh—well—it's not terribly—" The side of Flashburn's face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean—well—all—right."

He opened the door and they entered.

Hiccup knew from Astrid, who visited him often, that Flashburn house was covered of photographs of himself. However, now his house had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Capes, jade-green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" said Hiccup.

"Uh, well, yes," said Flashburn, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back door as he spoke, and starting to roll it up. "Urgent call… unavoidable… got to go…"

"What about my little brother?" said Astrid, looking angrier than Hiccup ever seen her.

"Well, as to that—most unfortunate," said Flashburn, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I—"

"You're the Combat Arts teacher!" said Hiccup. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well, I must say…When I took the job…" Flashburn muttered, now piling socks on top his capes, "nothing in the job description…didn't expect…"

"You mean you're _running away?_" said Astrid disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books?"

"Books can be misleading," said Flashburn delicately.

"You wrote them!" Astrid shouted.

"My dear," said Flashburn, straightening up and frowning at Hiccup. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think _I'd_ done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian Viking, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the Valkyrie who banished Bandon Dark-elf had a hare lip. I mean, come on…"

Astrid looked devastated, Hiccup could blame her she had just found out that her hero Flashburn the Flashmaster was a fraud.

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" said Hiccup incredulously.

"Hiccup, Hiccup," said Flashburn, shaking his head impatiently, "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to use some Lightning Magic to rearrange their memories. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it rearrange memories with Lightning Magic. It's not easy only a few people able to use Lightning Magic can do it. No, it's been a lot of work, Hiccup. It's not all book-signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.

"Let's see," he said "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his axe and turned to them.

"Nothing personal, but I'll have to rearrange your memories too. Can't have you two blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book…"

Faster than Hiccup could blink, Astrid pulled out her axe and moved so fast Hiccup barely saw her. She disarmed Flashburn and pointed her axe at his throat. Hiccup couldn't help, but feel scared of Astrid at the moment; she was looking at Flashburn with the worst death glare he had ever seen.

"I looked up to you! You were my hero!" she yelled. "Why didn't I see it before? Why didn't I see you for what you truly were? A weak, cowardly, egotistic glory hog!"

"Astrid," said Hiccup, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Now's not the time. We need to rescue Ripper."

"Right," Astrid agreed. "Should we take Toothless and Stormfly with us?"

Hiccup shock his head. "Don't you remember _its_ roar is able to disorient dragons? Bring them would only put them at risk."

Astrid nodded in agreement. "Then let's get going," she said and looked at Flashburn, "And you're coming with us."

"What do you want me to do?" said Flashburn weakly. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"Well, it's you're lucky day," said Hiccup, as Astrid forced Flashburn to his feet still pointing her axe at him. "We think _we_ know where it is. _And _what's inside it. Let's go."

They marched Flashburn out of his house, into the castle and up the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the message shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

They sent Flashburn in first. Hiccup was pleased to see that he was shaking. Though, if he was at the receiving end of Astrid's axe he'd be shaking too.

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the cistern of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you," she said, when she saw Hiccup. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," said Hiccup.

"Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very cubicle. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Holly Hornson was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. they said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _boy _speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet and then—" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining, "I _died_."

"How?" said Hiccup.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great big red eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…" She looked dreamily at Hiccup. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Holly Hornson, you see. Oh, she'd was so sorry she's ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" said Hiccup.

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely towards the sink in front of her toilet.

Hiccup and Astrid hurried over to it. Flashburn was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face.

It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Hiccup saw it: scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny Hideous Zippleback.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly, as he tried to turn it.

"Hiccup," said Astrid, "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."

"But—" Hiccup thought hard. The only times he'd ever managed to speak Parseltongue were when he'd been faced with a real snake. He stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was a real living snake.

"Open up," he said.

He looked at Astrid, who shook her head.

"English," she said.

"Hiccup looked back at the Hideous Zippleback, willing himself to believe it was living snake. If he moved his head, the torchlight made it look as though its necks were moving.

"Open up," he said.

Except that the words weren't what he heard; a strange hissing had escape him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move. The sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

Hiccup heard Astrid gasp and looked up again. He had made up his mind what he was going to do.

"I'm going down there," he said.

He couldn't not go, not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ripper might be alive.

"Me too," said Astrid.

There was a pause.

"Nice work you two," said Flashburn, with a shadow of his old smile. "Well, you hardly seem to need me. I'll just—"

He put his hand on the door knob, but Astrid and Hiccup both pointed their weapons at him.

"You can go first," Astrid snarled.

White-faced and weaponless, Flashburn approached the opening.

"My dear," he said, his voice feeble, "my dear, what good will it do?"

"But you than us," said Astrid.

Hiccup pressed the tip of his sword into his back. Flashburn slid legs into the pipe.

"I really don't think—" he started to say, but Astrid gave him a push, and he sled out of sight. Hiccup followed quickly. He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, then let go.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipers branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downwards, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the academy than even the dungeons. Behind him he could hear Astrid, thudding slightly at the curves.

And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe levelled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel, large enough to stand in. Flashburn was already getting to his feet a little way away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. Hiccup stood aside as Astrid came whizzing out of the pipe, too.

"It's really quite filthy down here," said Flashburn, as he brushed the slim off his clothes.

"Somehow I don't think the Screaming Death cleaned after itself," said Hiccup, as he helped Astrid up.

"We must be miles under the academy," said Astrid, her voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"We must be under the lake," said Hiccup, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls and created a fireball into his hand. "Let's get going," he said to Astrid and Flashburn, and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the fireball light.

"Remember," Hiccup said quietly, as they walked cautiously forward, "and sign of movement, close your eyes straight away…"

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud _crunch_ as Astrid stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Hiccup lowered the fireball to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Ripper might look like if they found him, Hiccup led way forward, round a dark bend in the tunnel.

"Hiccup, look there…" said Astrid pointing.

Hiccup looked at where she was pointing to and saw large white dragon scales littering the floor ahead of them.

"It must have shaded its scales," said Hiccup, looking at the nearest one.

"Odin's bread," said Flashburn looking terrified, "the dragon that shaded these must be almost fifteen feet big."

"Bigger," said Hiccup looking up at the ceiling.

"What do you mean?" said Astrid.

Hiccup raised the fireball into the air and Astrid realised what he meant. The tunnel they were in wasn't made by any human it was made by a dragon. There were teeth marks on the walls and the ceiling and there were several smaller side tunnels.

"The Screaming Death has been building tunnel all over the place," said Hiccup.

"By Thor," said Astrid breathless.

There was a sudden movement behind them. Flashburn's knees had given way.

"Heart of a lion this one," Astrid muttered.

Flashburn got to his feet—then dived at Astrid, knocking her to the ground.

Hiccup jumped forward, but too late. Flashburn was straightening up, panting, Astrid's axe in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face.

"Oldest trick in the book," said Astrid cursing herself.

"I'm afraid the adventure ends here!" he said. "I shall take one of the dragon scales back up to the academy, tell them I was too late to save the boy, and you two _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of his mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories!"

He raised Astrid's axe with the Spellotaped crystal eye imbedded into it high over his head and let out a roar.

The crystal eye exploded with the force of a small bomb. Hiccup flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the huge dragon scales, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling which were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock.

"Astrid!" he shouted. "Are you okay? Astrid!"

"I'm here!" came Astrid's muffled voice from behind the rockfall.

"Oh, thank Thor," said Hiccup breathing a huge sigh of relief.

Then came Flashburn's voice, "Oh, hello. Who are you?"

"Uh, Astrid Hofferson," said Astrid in a confused tone.

"Really," said Flashburn. "And who I'm I?"

"Flashburn's attack backfired!" Astrid yelled. "He has no idea who he is!"

"So, I heard," said Hiccup.

"It's an odd sort of place, is it," said Flashburn. "Do you live here?"

"No," said Astrid.

"Oh, really—"

Then there was a dull thud and a loud "ow!" It sounded as though Astrid had just knocked Flashburn out cold.

"What now?" Astrid voice's said, sounding desperate. "I can't get through. It'll take ages…"

Hiccup looked up at the tunnel ceiling. Huge cracks had appeared in it. He had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic, and now didn't seem a good moment to try—what if the whole tunnel caved in?

He thought that some of the side tunnels a might connect with each other, but that would take too long, from here he could tell that they were a maze. They were wasting time. Ripper had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours. Hiccup knew there was only one thing to do.

"You wait here and try to shift some of this rock," said Hiccup.

"You got it," said Astrid and after a very pregnant pause she added, "And Hiccup be careful."

"When have I never been careful?" said Hiccup. He had the feeling that Astrid was about to answer. "Don't answer that."

And he set off alone past the giant dragon scales.

Soon the distant noise of Astrid straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Hiccup's body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which had a Hideous Zippleback with its neck entwined around each other carved, its eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Hiccup approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend this stone Hideous Zippleback was real snake, its eyes seemed to flicker.

"_Open_," said Hiccup, in a low, faint hiss.

The Hideous Zippleback's necks parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Hiccup, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

* * *

><p><strong>I know the Screaming Death doesn't have those abilities, but I had to so it would fit into the story.<strong>


	17. The Heir of Slytherin

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more Hideous Zipplebacks carvings that rose to support the ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart beating very fast, Hiccup stood listening to the chill silence. Could the Screaming Death be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ripper?

He pulled out his sword and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone Hideous Zipplebacks seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Hiccup had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: he recognised it at once; it was the face of Slytherin the Cunning. It looked almost exactly like the statue of Slytherin in the Great Hall, only grander. Then Hiccup noticed, in-between its feet, face down, lay a small, figure with golden blond hair.

"_Ripper!_" Hiccup muttered, sprinting to him and dropping to his knees. "Ripper! Don't be dead! Please don't be dead!" He flung his sword aside, grabbed Ripper's shoulders and turned him over. His face was white as marble, and as cold, yet his eyes were closed, so he wasn't Petrified. But then he must be…

"Ripper, please wake up," Hiccup muttered desperately, shaking him. Ripper's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"He won't wake," said a soft voice.

Hiccup jumped and spun around on his knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edge, as though Hiccup was looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him.

"Tola—_Tola Sidduvb?_"

Sidduvb nodded, not taking his eyes off Hiccup's face.

"What do you mean, he won't wake?" Hiccup said desperately. "He's not—he's not—?"

"He's still alive," said Sidduvb. "But only just."

Hiccup stared at him. Tola Sidduvb had been at Berk over twenty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than seventeen.

"Ate you a ghost?" Hiccup said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Sidduvb quietly. "Preserved in a diary for over twenty years."

He pointed towards the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Hiccup had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second, Hiccup wondered how it had got there—but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"You've got to help me, Tola," said Hiccup, raising Ripper's head again. "We've got to get him out of here. There's a Screaming Death… I don't know where it is, but it could be alone any moment. Please, help me…"

Sidduvb didn't move. Hiccup, sweating, managed to hoist Ripper half off the floor, and bent to pick up his sword again.

But his sword had gone.

"Did you see—?"

He looked up. Sidduvb was still watching him—twirling Hiccup's sword in his hand.

"Thanks," said Hiccup, stretching out his hand for it.

A smile circled the corner of Sidduvb's mouth. He continued to stare at Hiccup, twirling the sword idly and examined the crystal eye imbedded it.

"The eye of a Night Fury," he said. "That's quite rare."

"Listen," said Hiccup urgently, his knees sagging with Ripper's dead weight, "Forget what kind of crystal eye I've got, _we've got to go!_ If the Screaming Death comes…"

"It won't come until it is called," said Sidduvb calmly.

Hiccup lowered Ripper back onto the floor, unable to hold him up any longer.

"What do you mean?" he said look, gibe me my sword, I might need it."

Sidduvb's smiled broadened.

"You won't be needing it," he said.

Hiccup stared at him.

"What do you mean, I won't be—?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Hiccup Haddock," said Sidduvb. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," said Hiccup, losing patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the _Chamber of Secrets_. We can talk later."

"We're going to talk now," said Sidduvb, still smiling broadly, and he pointed Hiccup sword at him.

Hiccup wasn't sure, but every bone in his body told him to run. This wasn't the Sidduvb he saw in diary months ago.

"How did Ripper get like this?" he asked slowly.

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Sidduvb pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ripper Hofferson's like this is because he opened his heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" said Hiccup, though he had a pretty good idea what he was on about.

"Oh, I think you know," said Sidduvb. "_My_ diary. Little Ripper's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all his pitiful worries and woes: how his sister and older brothers _tease_ her, how she had to come to the academy with second-hand robes and books, how—" Sidduvb's eyes glinted. "—how his hero the famous, good, great Hiccup Haddock could even look at him…"

All the time he spoke, Sidduvb's eyes never left Hiccup's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very _boring_, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old boy," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ripper simply _loved _me. _No one's ever understood me like you, Tola… I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in… It's like having a friend I can vary around in my pocket…_"

Sidduvb laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Hiccup's neck. He could have sworn that he'd heard that laugh somewhere before, but couldn't put his finger on it.

"If I say it myself, Hiccup, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ripper poured out his soul to me, and his soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of his deepest fears, his darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than like Mr Hofferson. Powerful enough to start feeding Mr Hofferson a few of _my_ secrets, to start pouring a little of _my_ soul back into _him_…"

"What do you mean?" said Hiccup, whose mouth had gone very dry.

"Haven't you guessed yet, Hiccup Haddock?" said Sidduvb softly. "Ripper Hofferson opened the Chamber of Secrets. He daubed threating messages on the walls. He set the Dragon of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's sheep."

"No," Hiccup whispered.

"Yes," said Sidduvb, calmly. "Of course, he didn't _know_ what he was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen his new diary entries… Far more interesting, they became… _Dear Tola_," he recited, watching Hiccup's horrified face, "_I think I'm losing my memory. I can't remember what I did on the night of Hallowe'en, but a sheep was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tola, Sven keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me… There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tola, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad… I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tola!_"

Hiccup fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his palms. He felt sick to his stomach and glared at Sidduvb.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ripper to stop trusting his diary," said Sidduvb. "But he finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where _you_ came in, Hiccup. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was _you_, the very person I was most anxious to meet…"

"And why did you want to meet me?" said Hiccup. He rarely got angry, but Sidduvb was succeeding greatly and made it hard for him to keep his voice steady. Every time Sidduvb opened his mouth kept on getting the feeling that he had met him somewhere before, but it was like putting a thousand piece jigsaw together.

"Well, you see, Ripper told me all about you, Hiccup," said Sidduvb. "Your whole _fascinating_ history." His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Hiccup's forehead, and his expression grew hungrier. It was then the Hiccup realised that he had been looking at his scar the entire time. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. And not because I knew your grandfather and both your parents and if I might add it's a good thing your father isn't alive anymore, he could have died in shame. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Gobber, to gain your trust. Though it would seem that was less than successful, because I didn't hear from you again."

"Gobber's my friend," said Hiccup, his voice now shaking. "And you framed him, didn't you? I thought you made a mistake, but—"

Sidduvb laughed his deep booming laugh again.

"It was my word against Gobber's, Hiccup. Well, you can imagine how it looked to your grandfather. On the one hand, Tola Sidduvb, poor but brilliant, parentless but so _brave_, academy prefect, model student; on the other hand, big, blundering Gobber in trouble every other week with his friends, trying to build dangerous robots, getting into fights with just about everyone. But I admit, even _I_ was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought _someone_ must realised that Gobber couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken _me_ six whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance… as though Gobber had the brains, or the power!"

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Heyral, seemed to think Gobber was innocent. He and your father persuaded your grandfather to keep Gobber and train him to teach Forging. Yes, I think Heyral might have guessed. Heyral never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did…"

"I bet Heyral saw right through you," said Hiccup, with a sly smile.

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Gobber was expelled. As did your father and his friends and once she recovered your mother too watched me, she was close to discovering me and I hoped the attack on her would finish her off," said Sidduvb carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at the academy. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my seventeen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Slytherin the Cunning's noble work."

"There is nothing noble about attacking and killing innocent people," said Hiccup glaring at Sidduvb. "Anyway you've failed. No one's died this time, not even the sheep. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again."

"Haven't I already told you," said Sidduvb quietly, "that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my target has been—_you_."

Hiccup started at him.

"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ripper who was writing to me, not you. He saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ripper had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery just like your mother—particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ripper had told me the whole academy was buzzing because you could speak Parseltounge…"

"So I made Ripper write his own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. He struggled and cried and became _very_ boring. But there isn't much life in him: he put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Hiccup Haddock."

"Like what?" Hiccup spat, fist still clenched. "What could I possibly know?"

"Well," said Sidduvb, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest Viking of all time? How did _you_ escape with nothing but a scar, while Drago Bludvist's powers were destroyed?"

There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" said Hiccup slowly and then he realised something that made his blood turn to ice. "No, you can't be."

"So, you figured it out," said Sidduvb, with an evil grin on his face, "that Drago Bludvist is my past, present and future, Hiccup Haddock, but if you still don't believe me…"

He held Hiccup's sword into the air and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:

TOLA GRIM SIDDUVB

Then he waved the sword once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:

I AM DRAGO BLUDVIST

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Berk, to my most intimate friends only, so course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Slytherin the Cunning himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a Valkyrie? No, Hiccup. I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew Vikings and dragons everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest Viking in the world!"

Hiccup looked at Sidduvb speechless; here in front of him was an orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Hiccup's parents, and so many others… At last he forced himself to speak.

"You're not," he said, his quiet voice full of hatred.

"Not what?" snapped Sidduvb.

"Not the greatest Viking in the world," said Hiccup, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you, and all that, but the greatest Viking in the world is Heyral the Wise. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over Berk. Heyral saw through you when you were at the academy and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days. I mean how can you call yourself the great Viking of all time when you can't even kill a helpless baby."

The smile had gone from Sidduvb's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

"Heyral's been driven out of this island by the mere _memory_ of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Hiccup retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Sidduvb, wishing, rather than believing to be true.

Sidduvb opened his mouth, but froze.

Several roars were coming from somewhere. Sidduvb whirled around to stare down the empty chamber. The roars were growing louder. It he saw three very familiar dragons, Toothless, Stormfly and leading the way holding a banged up helmet in his talons was Fawkes.

Hiccup couldn't believe it, he didn't know how or why, but it was as clear as day. The three dragons circled around them and then landed next to him. Fawkes dropped the banged up helmet at his feet and rested on his shoulder.

Toothless and Stormfly walked up to and nuzzled him, all three of them gazing steadily at Sidduvb.

"So…" said Sidduvb, slightly taken aback, "Ripper was telling the truth you do ride on a Night Fury and it would seem as if he brought friends."

"_Toothless, Stormfly, Fawkes?_" Hiccup breathed, and felt the Burning Blazer's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently. "What are you guys doing here?"

"And _that_—" said Sidduvb, now eyeing the battered up helmet that Fawkes had dropped, "that's the old academy Sorting Helmet."

So it was. Cracked, dented, and dirty, the helmet lay motionless at Hiccup's feet.

Sidduvb began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though ten Sidduvb were laughing at once.

"This is what Heyral sends his defender! Three useless reptiles and an old helmet! Do you feel brave, Hiccup Haddock? Do you feel safe now?"

Hiccup didn't answer. He might not see what use Toothless and the other would be against a Screaming Death or the Sorting Helmet were, but he was no longer alone, and he waited with mounting courage for Sidduvb to stop laughing.

"To business, Hiccup," said Sidduvb, still smiling broadly. "Twice—in _your_ past, in _my_ future—we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. _How did you survive?_ Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive.

Toothless growled at Sidduvb, but Hiccup held him back. True he had three dragon, but Sidduvb had a sword and more knowledge on how to use it, plus he could call the Screaming Death whenever he wanted and that made the three dragons beside him useless. In fact the only weapon he had was a banged up helmet and that is what you call a useful weapon. It looked bad, all right. But the longer Sidduvb stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ripper… and in the meantime, Hiccup noticed suddenly, Sidduvb's outline was becoming clearer, more solid. If it had to be a fight between him and Sidduvb, better sooner than later.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Hiccup abruptly. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't _kill_ me. Because my mother died to save me. My common _Muggle_-born mother," he added, shaking with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You barely alive. That's where all you're got you. You're hiding. You're ugly, you're foul!"

Sidduvb's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile.

"So, your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful bit of Light Magic. I can see now—there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. Because there are strange likenesses between us, Hiccup Haddock. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Berk since the great Slytherin the Cunning himself. We both come from two direct descended from powerful Vikings. We even _look_ something alike… But after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Hiccup stood, tense, waiting for Sidduvb to raise his sword. But Sidduvb's twisted smile was widening again.

"Now, Hiccup, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Drago Bludvist, Heir of Slytherin the Cunning, against famous Hiccup Haddock, descent of the first dragon rider and armed with the best weapons Heyral the Wise can give him."

He cast an amused eye over the three dragons, who were growling angrily at him and the Sorting Helmet, then walked away. Hiccup, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Sidduvb stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Sidduvb opened his mouth wide and hissed—but Hiccup understood what he was saying.

"_Speak to me, Slytherin the Cunning, learner of Hiccup Dragon Whisper and greatest of the Berk Four_."

Hiccup wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder and both Toothless and Stormfly took up fighting stances.

Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horrostruck, Hiccup saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.

Then a very loud roar came out of it, so loud that it hurt Hiccup's ears. He then saw that Toothless and the others were acting crazy, it looked as though they were in pain.

"So, that's the Screaming Death's roar," said Hiccup in amazement.

And then something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

Hiccup caked away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tightly he felt Fawkes' wing rubbing his cheek as he took flight. He couldn't blame him, if he had wings he be flying away too.

Something huge hit the stone floor of the chamber, Hiccup felt it shudder. He knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see a giant serpent-like body flying out of Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Sidduvb's voice: "Kill him."

The Screaming Death was flying towards Hiccup, he could hear its heavy body hovering over the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, Hiccup began to run blindly sideways, his hands out stretched, feeling his way. Sidduvb was laughing…

Hiccup tripped. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood. The Screaming Death was barely feet from him, he could hear it coming.

There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him and then something heavy hit Hiccup so hard that he was smashed against the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad roaring, something trashing widely off the pillars.

He couldn't help it. He opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.

The Screaming Death was indeed huge about twenty feet and it looked well over thirty foot long. Its scales were white as chalk and had huge piercing white spikes with blood red tips all over its body. It raised its body high in the air holding the biggest head Hiccup had ever seen full to the brim of raze sharp teeth; its head was hovering drunkenly between the pillars. As Hiccup trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the dragon.

Fawkes was soaring around its head, and both Toothless and Stormfly were hitting it with plasma blasts and spine shots. The Screaming tried to roar, but the concert attacks from Toothless and Stormfly made it impossible.

Fawkes dived. His long fangs sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The Screaming Death's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Hiccup, and before Hiccup could shut his eyes, it turned. Hiccup looked straight into its face, and saw that is eyes, both its great bulbous red eyes, had been punctured by the Burning Blazer; blood was streaming to the floor and the Screaming Death was roaring in agony and once again the other dragon became disorientated, unable to move in a straight line.

"No!" Hiccup heard Sidduvb screaming, "Your dragons might have worked together to blind it, but it can still smell you."

The blinded dragon swayed, confused, still deadly. Stormfly kept on firing spine shots at it, Toothless had reached his shot limit and could only run to Hiccup carrying the Sorting Helmet in his mouth.

Toothless stopped in front of Hiccup placed the Sorting Helmet at his feet, covering in his saliva. Hiccup looked at the helmet and back to Toothless and said, "Oh, what do I have to lose."

He placed the Sorting Helmet over his head and threw himself flat onto the floor as the Screaming Death's tail flew over him.

"_Help me… help me…_" Hiccup thought, his eyes screwed tight under the helmet, "_Please help me!_"

There was no answering voice. Instead, the helmet contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly.

Something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of Hiccup's head. Almost knocking him out. Stars winking in front of his eyes, he grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it.

A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the helmet, its handle glittering with a bright red crystal eye the size of an egg.

"Kill the boy! Forget those lizards! The boy id behind you! Sniff—smell him!"

Hiccup was on his feet, ready, the Screaming Death's head was falling, smashing through a pillar as it moved to face him. It then lunched several spikes from his body straight towards him. Without think Hiccup raised the sword and created a fire wall in front of him so powerful all the incoming spikes turned to ash.

"H-how, did you get that sword," said a stunned Sidduvb.

He didn't give him time to answer because he sent a jet of water out of Hiccup's sword straight at him. Hiccup jet a stream of fire with the sword in his hand, but the water extinguished it and slammed him straight into the Chamber wall. Then the Screaming Death made a blind lung at him.

Hiccup didn't have any time to get out of the way and he couldn't think of any spell to stop it. So, he did the only thing he could, he raised the sword in both his hands and ignited it. When the Screaming Death's mouth was fully open, Hiccup threw his whole weight behind the ignited sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the dragon's mouth.

But as warm blood drenched Hiccup's arm, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the Screaming Death crashed to the ground with a massive _thud_.

Hiccup slid down the wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too late. White hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his cloths, his vision went foggy. The chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull colour.

He collapsed, but a something big and black caught him.

"Thanks, bud," said Hiccup thickly as Stormfly and Fawkes walked up to him. "You were amazing. You all were…"

Toothless laid him down on the floor and moved his head on the spot where the dragon's fang had pierced him.

He could hear echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of him.

"You're dead, Hiccup Haddock," said Sidduvb's voice above him. "Dead. You might have killed the Screaming Death, which I admit I'm surprised, but dead. Even your dragon knows it. Do you see what's he's doing, Haddock? He's licking up your wound."

Hiccup blinked. Toothless' head slid and out of focus. He felt a tongue brushing against his arm.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Hiccup Haddock. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Hiccup felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"So ends the Famous Hiccup Haddock," said Sidduvb's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dragon Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Hiccup… She bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Drago Bludvist got you in the end, as you knew he must."

If this is dying, thought Hiccup, it's not so bad. Even the pain was leaving him…

But was this dying? Instead of going back, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. Hiccup gave his head a little shake and there was Toothless, still resting licking his tongue on Hiccup's arm.

The saliva was shining all around the wound—except that there _was_ no wound.

"Get away, lizard," said Sidduvb's voice suddenly. "Get away from him. I said, _get away_!"

Hiccup raised his head. Sidduvb was pointing Hiccup's sword at Toothless, but Stormfly and Fawkes blocked his water whip attack.

"Night Fury saliva…" Sidduvb said quietly, staring at Hiccup's arm. "Of course… healing powers… I forgot…"

He looked into Hiccup's face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Hiccup Haddock…"

He raised the sword.

Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes soared back overhead and something fell into Hiccup's lap—_the diary_.

For a split second, both Hiccup and Sidduvb, sword still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Hiccup seized the Screaming Death fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spirted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Hiccup's hands, flooding the floor. Sidduvb was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then…

He had gone. Hiccup's sword fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady _drip drip_ of ink still oozing from the diary. The Screaming Death had burned a sizzling hole right through it.

Shaking all over, Hiccup pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he'd just travelled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his sword, and placed it in its sheath, and the Sorting Helmet, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the Screaming Death's mouth.

He turned around and saw Stormfly nuzzling Ripper, who began to stir. As Hiccup hurried towards him, he sat up. His bemused eyes travelled from the huge form of the dead Screaming Death, over Hiccup, in blood-soaked cloths, then to the diary in his hand. He drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down his face.

"Hiccup—oh, Hiccup—I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-_couldn't_ say it in front of Sven. It was_ me_, Hiccup—but I—I s-swear I d-didn't mean to—S- Sidduvb made me, he t-took me over—and—_how_ did you kill that—that thing a-and what is S-stormfly during here? W-where's Sidduvb? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary—"

"Whoa, whoa, easy champ," said Hiccup, holding up the diary, and showing Ripper the fang hole, "Sidduvb's finished. Look! Him _and_ the Screaming Death. Come on, let's get out of here—"

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ripper wept, as Hiccup helped him awkwardly to his feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Berk ever since B-Bjorn came and n-now I'll have to leave and—_w-what'll Mama and Papa say?_"

Hiccup managed to get him on Stormfly's back and he climbed on Toothless' and they walked towards the Chamber's entrance which was where Fawkes was waiting. They passed the motionless body of the dead Screaming Death, through the echoing gloom and back into the tunnel. Hiccup heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

After a few minutes' progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached Hiccup's ears.

"Astrid!" Hiccup yelled and Toothless and Stromfly speeded up. "Ripper's okay! I've got him!"

He heard Astrid give a strangled cheer and they turned the next bend to see her eager face staring through the sizeable gap she had made managed to make in the rock fall.

"_Ripper!_" Astrid thrust an arm through the gap in the rock pulled him through it. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened?"

She tried to hug him but Ripper held her off, sobbing.

"But you're okay, Rip," said Astrid, beaming at him. "It's over now it's—how did our dragons get here and what is that dragon?"

Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ripper.

"He's Heyral's Burning Blazer," said Hiccup. "And how Toothless and Stormfly got here I have no idea."

"They must've flown into the side tunnel," said Astrid, looking at the side tunnels all over the wall, "but how did they not get lost?"

As if on cue Toothless and Stormfly flew into the nearest side tunnel with Hiccup still on Toothless back. Toothless was leading with Stormfly close behind; he was roaring and somehow managed to navigate through the maze of tunnels.

How Toothless did Hiccup could say, but he knew that it would be impossible to him. There hundreds of side tunnels and they all were going in different directions.

"How are you seeing?!" Hiccup yelled.

They soon exited a tunnel that ended right where Astrid and Ripper were waiting. When Astrid saw them she was stunned.

"H-how did you—"

"No idea," said Hiccup breathless and looked down at Toothless. "You are sure full of surprises tonight, aren't you bud."

Astrid then noticed the slivery sword in Hiccup's hand. "How come you've got another _sword?_"

"It's a long story," said Hiccup. "And it'll tell it once we get out of here. By the way, where's Flashburn?"

"Back there," said Astrid, grinning and jerking her head up the tunnel towards the pipe. "He's still trying to figure out who he is?"

Led by Fawkes, whose scarlet scales emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Flashburn was sitting there, humming placidly to himself.

"I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself," said Astrid.

Flashburn peered good-naturedly up at them all.

"Oh, hello there are you the one who lives here?" he asked.

"No," said Hiccup and turned to look at Astrid. "We'll have to fly out on Toothless and Stormfly."

"Good thing they decided to show up," Astrid agreed.

"Okay, you take Ripper on Stormfly and I'll take Flashburn on Toothless," said Hiccup.

"He means you," said Astrid to Flashburn, who was looking around for another person.

Astrid climbed onto Stormfly and pulled Ripper up. Hiccup had to guide Flashburn to Toothless before hopping on. Once they were all secured the two dragons flew upwards through the pipe with Fawkes close behind. Hiccup could hear Flashburn behind him saying, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!" The chill air was whipping through Hiccup's hair and soon the four of them had exited the pipe and their dragons landed on the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's floor, and as Flashburn straightened his helmet, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.

Myrtle goggled at them.

"You're alive," she said blankly to Hiccup.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime of his fur coat.

"Oh, well… I'd just been thinking. If you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.

"Sounds like someone's got a secret admirer," said Astrid, failing to hold back her laughter.

Fawkes then flew out of hole in the wall that wasn't there before.

"How did that get there?" Hiccup asked.

"Oh, that dragon your on just blasted a hole in the wall and was followed by two other dragons," Myrtle explained.

"Great, not like we're not in enough trouble," Hiccup moaned.

Nerveless, Toothless and Stormfly followed Fawkes lead and they flew into the village. They landed in front of Phlegma's house.

Hiccup, not able to think of anything else, pushed the door open.


	18. Dobby's Reward

For a moment, there was silence as Hiccup, Astrid, Ripper and Flashburn stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Hiccup's case) blood. Then there was a scream.

"_Ripper!_"

It was Mrs Hofferson, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr Hofferson, and both of them flung themselves on their son.

Hiccup, however, was looking past them. Heyral was standing by the mantel piece, beaming next to Phlegma, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Toothless, Stormfly and Fawkes entered the room and made themselves at him. Toothless sat close to the fireplace, Stormfly joined the Hoffersons and Fawkes settled on Heyral's shoulder, just as Hiccup found himself and Astrid being swept into Mrs Hofferson's tight embrace.

"You saved him! You saved him! _How_ in the name of Thor did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," said Phlegma weakly.

Mrs Hofferson let go of Hiccup, who hesitated for moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Helmet, the slivery sword and what remained of Sidduvb's diary.

Then he started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence: he told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Ragnar had finally realized that he was hearing a Screaming Death in the pipes; how he and Astrid had followed Gobber's hologram tracker into Raven's Point, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the Screaming Death had died; how he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom…

"That explains the destroyed stable doors," Phlegma prompted him, as he paused. "So you found out where the entrance was—breaking a hundred academy rules into pieces along the way, I might add—but how on _Midgard _did you all get out of there alive, Hiccup?"

So Hiccup, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about their dragons timely arrival and about the Sorting Helmet giving him the slivery sword. But then he faltered. He had so far avoided mentioning Sidduvb's diary—or Ripper. He was standing with his head against Mrs Hofferson's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down his cheeks. What if they expelled him? Hiccup thought in panic. Sidduvb's diary didn't work anymore… How could they prove it had been he who'd made him do it all?

Instinctively, Hiccup looked at Heyral, who smiled faintly, the firelight glancing off his axe prosthetic.

"What interests _me_ most," said Heyral gently, "is how Drago Bludvist managed to enchant Ripper, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

Relief—warm, sweeping, glorious relief—swept over Hiccup.

"W-what's that?" said Mrs Hofferson in a stunned voice. "_The Dragon Lord?_ En-enchant _Ripper_? But Ripper's not… Ripper hasn't been… has he?"

"It was this diary," said Hiccup quickly, picking it up and showing it to Heyral. "Sidduvb wrote in it when he was seventeen."

Heyral took the diary from Hiccup and peered keenly down his fat nose at its burn and soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Berk has ever seen. " He turned around to the Hoffersons, who were looking utterly bewildered.

"Very few people know that Drago Bludvist was once called Tola Sidduvb. I taught him myself, twenty years ago, at Berk and Phlegma was at Berk when he was his fourth year along with Hiccup's parents. He disappeared after leaving the academy… travelled far and wide… sank so deep into the use of Dark Magic, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that he resurfaced as Drago Bludvist, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Drago Bludvist with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But Ripper," said Mrs Hofferson, "What's out Ripper got to do with—with—_him?_"

"His d-diary!" Ripper sobbed, "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year—"

"_Ripper_!" said Mr Hofferson, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you _anything_? What have I told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps its brain_. Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it _clearly_ full of Dark Magic!"

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ripper. "I found it inside one of the books Mama got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it…"

"Mr Hofferson should go to the healing centre straight away." Heyral interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for him. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser Vikings than he have been hoodwinked by Drago Bludvist. "He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he added, twinkling kindly down at him. "You will find that Flora is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice—I daresay the Screaming Death victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Ragnar's okay," said Hiccup brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done," said Heyral.

"Mrs Hofferson led Ripper out, and Mr Hofferson followed still looking deeply shaken.

"You know Phlegma," Heyral said thoughtfully to Phlegma, "I think these young heroes of ours deserve a _feast_ in their name. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," said Phlegma crisply, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Haddock and Miss Hofferson, while I take their dragons back to the stable, shall I?"

"Certainly," said Heyral.

She left with Toothless and Stormfly close behind her, and Hiccup and Astrid gazed uncertainly at Heyral. What exactly had Phlegma meant, _deal_ with them? Surely—_Surely_—they weren't about to be punished?

"I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more academy rules," said Heyral.

Astrid opened her mouth to protect.

"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Heyral went on smiling, "You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the Academy and—let me see—yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."

Astrid went bright pink as Flashburn's Freyja flowers and closed her mouth again.

"Bur one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Heyral added. "Why so modest, Flashburn?"

Hiccup gave a start. He had completely forgotten about Flashburn. He turned and saw Flashburn was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Heyral addressed him, Flashburn looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

"Sir," Astrid said quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Our Combat Arts teacher here—"

"Am I a teacher?" said Flashburn in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

"You can say that again," Astrid muttered and looked back at Heyral. "Anyway, after we discovered that he was a fraud, he tried to rearrange your memories and when he used my crystal eye his attacked backfired."

"Odin's beard," said Heyral, shaking his head, his long silver moustache quivering. "Impaled upon your own sword, Flashburn!"

"Sword?" said Flashburn dimly. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has two, though." He pointed at Hiccup. "He'll lend you one."

"Would you mind taking Flashburn up the healing centre, too, Miss Hofferson?" Heyral said to Astrid. "I'd like a few more words with Hiccup…"

"Of course, sir," said Astrid. She then looked at Hiccup. "Hiccup, I'm sorry."

"What about?" Hiccup asked confused.

"About thinking this guy was a great hero," said Astrid gesturing to Flashburn, "and not recognising the true hero right in front of him."

Hiccup didn't know what to say, but before he could think about what to say Astrid punched him hard on his upper arm.

"That's for nearly getting yourself killed," she said. Hiccup was getting very tried about her hitting him every time he nearly got himself killed. Then Astrid gave him a big kiss on the cheek. "That's for rescuing my little brother."

Before Hiccup could say anything Astrid left the room with Flashburn, but not before giving Hiccup a slightly pink face as she closed the door.

Hiccup looked at Heyral, who had a slightly amused face. "Ah, to be young and feel loves string," he said as he sat down on one of the chairs by the fire.

Hiccup felt his face turning bright pink and quickly began to stutter. "We're not—I mean I'm not—"

Heyral ignored Hiccup's stuttering and gestured to the chair opposite him and said, "Sit down, Hiccup." Hiccup sat, feeling unaccountably nervous.

"First of all, Hiccup, I want to thank you," said Heyral, eyes twinkling again. "You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to being help to you."

He stroked the Burning Blazer, which floated down onto his knee. Hiccup grinned awkwardly as Heyral watch him.

"And so you met Tola Sidduvb," said Heyral thoughtfully. "I imagine he was _most_ interested in you…"

Suddenly, something that was nagging at Hiccup came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Sir… Sidduvb said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said…"

"_Did_ he, now?" said Heyral, looking thoughtfully under his thick silver eyebrows at Hiccup. "And what do you think, Hiccup?"

"I don't think I'm like him," said Hiccup, more loudly than he'd intended. "I mean I'm—I'm in _Gryffindor_, I'm…"

But he fell silent, a lurking doubt resurfacing in his mind.

"Sir," he started again after a moment, "The Sorting Helmet told me I'd—I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while… because I can speak Parseltongue…"

"You can speak Parseltounge, Hiccup," said Heyral calmly, "because Drago Bludvist—who is the last remaining ancestor of Slytherin the Cunning—can speak Parseltounge. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure…"

"Drago Bludvist put a bit of himself in _me_?" Hiccup said, thunderstruck.

"It would explain why Mr Keatson had trouble reading your aura."

"So I _should_ be in Slytherin," Hiccup said, looking desperately into Heyral's face. "The Sorting Helmet could see Slytherin's power in me, and it—"

"Put you in Gryffindor," said Heyral calmly. "Listen to me, Hiccup. You happen to have many qualities Slytherin the Cunning prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltounge… resourcefulness… determination… a certain disregard for rules."

"But sir, how was I able to hear the Screaming Death when Sidduvb?" Hiccup asked still confused.

"Well, Hiccup if I had to guess it is because your ancestor was able to talk with dragon and you have inherited that ability and with Parseltounge you can understand serpent-like dragons like the Screaming Death better than others."

"Anyway, that aside the Sorting Helmet placed you in Gryffindor," said Heyral, looking at Hiccup curiously. "You know why that was. Think."

"It only put me in Gryffindor," said Hiccup in a defeated voice, "because I asked not to go in Slytherin…"

"_Exactly_," said Heyral, beaming once more. "Which makes you very _different_ from Tola Sidduvb. It is our choices, Hiccup that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." Hiccup sat motionless in his chair, stunned. "If you want proof, Hiccup, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at _this_."

Heyral reached across Phlegma's desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword and handed it to Hiccup. Dully, Hiccup turned it over, the bright red crystal eye blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.

_Gryffindor the Courageous._

"This is Gryffindor's sword _Endeavour_ given to him by your ancestor Hiccup the Dragon Whisper and imbedded in it the crystal eye belonging to the Red Death that was slain by him too, who he gave to his other students," said Heyral. "Now only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the helmet, Hiccup."

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then Heyral pulled open one of the drawers in Phlegma's desk, and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.

"What you need, Hiccup, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban—we need our Forge Master back. And I must draft an advertisement for the _Daily Prophet_ too," he added thoughtfully. "We'll be needing a new Combat Arts teacher. We do seem to run through them, don't we?"

Hiccup got up and crossed to the door. He had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.

Spitelout the Stern stood there, fury in his face. And cowering under his arm, heavily wrapped in bandages, was _Dobby_.

"Good evening, Spitelout," said Heyral pleasantly.

Spitelout almost knocked Hiccup over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cape, a look of abject terror on his face.

"So!" said Spitelout, his cold eyes fixed on Heyral, "You're come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Berk."

"Well, you see, Spitelout," said Heyral, smiling serenely, "the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of Terrible Terrors, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arnbjorn the Tinker's youngest son had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to attack their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Spitelout went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury.

"So—have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," said Heyral, with a smile.

"_Well_?" said Spitelout sharply, "Who was it?"

"The same person as last time, Spitelout," said Heyral. "But this time, Drago Bludvist was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

He held up the small black book with large hole through the centre, watching Spitelout closely. Hiccup, however, was watching Dobby.

"The house-elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Hiccup, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Spitelout, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

"I see…" said Spitelout slowly to Heyral.

"A cleaver plan," said Heyral in a level voice, still staring Spitelout straight in the eye. "Because if Hiccup here—" Spitelout shot Hiccup a swift, sharp look, "and his friend Astrid hadn't discovered this book, why—Ripper Hofferson might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove he hadn't acted on his own free will…"

Spitelout said nothing. His face was suddenly mask-like.

"And imagine," Heyral went on, "what might have happened then… The Hofferson clan are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect Arnbjorn and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own son was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns. Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Sidduvb's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise…"

Spitelout forced himself to speak.

"Well, let's hope that Hiccup Haddock will always be there to save the day," said Spitelout looking straight at Hiccup.

"Oh, don't worry," said Hiccup looking straight at Spitelout, "I will be."

Hiccup noticed that, behind Spitelout's back, Dobby was still pointing, first to the diary, then to Spitelout, then punching himself in the head.

And Hiccup suddenly understood. He nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.

"Don't you want to know how Ripper got hold of that diary, Mr Jorgenson?" said Hiccup.

"How should I know how the stupid little boy got hold of it?" Spitelout said.

"I don't know, maybe because you're the one that gave it to him," said Hiccup and Spitelout stared at him. "In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up his old Transfiguration book, and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

He saw Spitelout's face turn red and his hands clench and unclench.

"Prove it," he hissed.

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Heyral, smiling at Hiccup. "Not now Sidduvb had vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Spitelout, not to go giving out any more Drago Bludvist's old academy things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arnbjorn the Tinker, for one, will make sure they are tracked back to you…"

Spitelout stood for a moment, and Hiccup distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his mace. Instead, he turned to his house-elf.

"We're going, Dobby!"

He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. Hiccup stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to him.

"Sir," he said hurriedly, "Can I give that diary _back _to Mr Jorgenson, please?"

"Certainly, Hiccup," said Heyral calmly. "But hurry. The feast, remember."

Hiccup grabbed the diary and dashed out of the house. He could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if his plan could possibly work, Hiccup took one of his shoes, pulled off his slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed the dairy into it. Then he ran down the dark pathway towards the stables.

When he got there he noticed that the stable doors had been blown off their hinges. Hiccup saw Spitelout and Dobby were about to enter the stables.

"Mr Jorgenson," he gasped, skidding to a halt, "I've got something for you."

And he forced the smelt sock into Spitelout's hand.

"What the—?"

Spitelout ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside, the looked furiously from the ruined book to Hiccup.

"You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Hiccup Haddock," he said glaring at him. "They were troublesome, muttonheads, too."

He turned to enter the stable.

"Come, Dobby. I said,_ come_!"

But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Hiccup's disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure.

"Master has given Dobby a sock," said the house-elf in wonderment, "Master gave it to Dobby."

"What's that?" spat Spitelout. "What did you say?"

"Dobby has got a sock," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby—Dobby is _free_."

Spitelout stood frozen, staring at the house-elf. He then looked at Hiccup, who lifted his right trouser leg reviling a missing sock. Once he saw this, Spitelout lunged at him.

"You've lost me my servant, boy!"

There was a loud bang, and Spitelout was thrown backwards into the stable. He crashed into a cart full of dragon poo and the poo fell on him. When he managed to dig himself out, his face was livid, and pulled out his poo covered mace, but Dobby raised a long threatening finger.

"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing at Spitelout. "You shall not touch Hiccup Haddoc. You shall go now."

Spitelout had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his poo covered cape around him and walked to his purple scaled Monstrous Nightmare. He then flew outside and out of sight.

"Hiccup Haddock freed Dobby!" said the house-elf shrilly, gazing up at Hiccup, the moonlight reflecting on his orb-like eyes. "Hiccup Haddock."

"Least I could do, Dobby," said Hiccup, grinning. "Just promise me that you'll never try and save my lift again."

The house-elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile.

"I've just got one question, Dobby," said Hiccup, as Dobby pulled on Hiccup's sock with shaking hands. "You told me all this had nothing to do with the Dragon Lord, remember? Well—"

"It was a clue, sir," said Dobby, his eyes widening, as though this was obvious. "Dobby was giving you a clue. The Dragon Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?"

"Right," said Hiccup not getting Dobby's logic. "Well, I'd better go. There's a feast in my honour and I think I should show up. Also my best friend Ragnar should be awake by now…"

Dobby threw his arms around Hiccup's middle and hugged him.

"Hiccup Haddock id greater by far than Dobby knew!" he sobbed. "Farewell, Hiccup Haddock"

And with a poof of smoke, Dobby disappeared. Toothless walked out the stables, looked at the spot where Dobby had disappeared and looked at Hiccup with a confused face.

"I knew, bud," said Hiccup shaking his head, "I don't understand him either."

* * *

><p>Soon Hiccup and Astrid entered the Great Hall and entered what seemed to be the strangest one they've ever seen. Everyone was in their pyjamas, and celebrating, apart from the Slytherins.<p>

Soon, however, both he and Astrid saw Ragnar running towards them. Astrid gave him a hug, but only for about ten seconds, and Hiccup shook his hand firmly.

"Nice work solving the mystery," he said.

"You did all the work," Hiccup reminded.

"I only gave you a hint on what dragon was down there and how it was moving around," he said. "You two figured the exact location of the Chamber of Secrets, rescued Ripper and kill the Screaming Death."

Before Hiccup could argue, he suddenly found himself shaking hands with just about everyone, including Hardbottom, who apologizing endlessly for suspecting him.

The feast carried on all night and things got better when Gobber showed up at half past three, cuffing Hiccup and Astrid on the shoulders that they were knocked into their plates of trifle. Also thanks to the four hundred points secured Gryffindor the House Cup for the second year running. Then Phlegma stood up to tell them all that the exams had been cancelled as an academy treat (Oh, no!" said Ragnar and Heather at the same time). Next Heyral announced that unfortunately, Flashburn, now called Flashburn the Fraud, would be unable to return next year, owing to the face that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.

"Shame," said Ragnar, helping himself to a chicken leg. "He was starting to grow on me.

* * *

><p>The rest of the summer term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Berk was back to normal, with only a few, small differences: Combat Arts classes were cancelled and they spent that free lesson with their dragons, and Spitelout the Stern had been sacked as an academy governor owing to the discovery of several Dark Magic types that were discovered by Mr Hofferson under his drawing room during a raid. Snotlout was no longer walking around the academy as though he own the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other, Ripper was perfectly happy again.<p>

Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Berk Express. Hiccup, Astrid, Ragnar, Double, Trouble and Ripper got a compartment to themselves. They made the most of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Double and Trouble's Filibuster Fireworks, and practised a few disarming moves from Astrid. She told Hiccup that he was a quick learner after disarming Trouble for the tenth him.

They were almost at King's Cross when Hiccup remembered something.

"Ripper—what did you see Sven doing, that he didn't want you to tell anyone?"

"Oh, that," said Ripper, trying to hold back a laugh. "Well—Sven's got a _girlfriend._"

Double dropped a stack of books on Trouble's head.

"_What_?"

"It's that Ravenclaw prefect, Clearwater Puddleson," said Ripper. "That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret."

"That's explains why he was in the dungeons during Snoggletog," said Ragnar.

"Hang on," said Hiccup, looking at Ripper curiously, "how do you know about this?"

"Oh, I kind of walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was—you know—attacked," he said. He then looked at Hofferson twins and added, "You won't tease him, will you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Double, who was looking as if his birthday had come early.

"Definitely not," said Truoble, sniggering.

The Berk Express slowed and finally stopped.

Hiccup pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Astrid and Ragnar.

"This is called a telephone number," he told Astrid, scribbling it twice, tearing the parchment in two and handing it to them. "I told your Dad how to use a telephone last summer, he'll know. Call me at the Dalssons, Okay? I can't stand anther two months with only Olaf to talk to…"

"Don't worry," said Astrid, "But so you know I won't be planning any rescue plans for you. Just promise me you won't do something that'll get you in trouble."

"That's the problem," said Hiccup. "Trouble always finds me."

"Speaking about your Aunt and Uncle," said Ragnar, as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging towards the enchanted barrier, "what do you think their reaction will be when they find out what you do this year?"

"Oh, I think they'll be furious about all those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it?"

And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.

* * *

><p><strong>Face for reading this story and to let you know I'll be starting my new <strong>Dragon Chronicles<strong> story as soon as possible. So, until then goodbye.**


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